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TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
LOHDOK : PBDITBD BT WILLIAM CLOWES AKD 80K8, STTAVrORD aTTBRRT
▲KD CUARIKG CBOflS.
TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
SUUVIVOR OF THE "CHARA FAMILY,"
AimiOR or " CROHOORE OF TRB BILHOOK," AND SEA'KKAl. <l-niKn.S
or TRE " o'hara talis."
IN TWO VOLUMES.
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY.
[2%« right of Trantlation i$ reHrved.]
HIS EXCELLENCY THE EARL OF CARLISLE,
Lwd Lieut emint <^ Ireland,
In acknotvledffment of your kindness to
my late brother, to his child, and to his widitw,
and in testimony of my personal gratitude for the
services rendered to myself, — it is a graiijication to
me to avail myself of this opportu/nity of avowing
my obligations by dedicating these volumes to you.
With the hope that the offering may not be un-
worthy of one, even less distinguished by his high
station than by his literary rank, and his bene-
volence of nature,
I have the honor, my Lord,
To subscribe myself.
Your Lordship's obliged Servant,
Kilkenny, Novewher 25, 1863.
It appears to me that, in a greater degree perliaps
than might be necessary with other books, this
Tale requires a few words of preface.
So far back as the year 1825 — now, alas ! forty
years ago, — I made my first essay as a story-teller,
in conjunction with my beloved brother, the late
He had, before that date, taken up the profession
— if such it may be called — of a literary man. He
had laid by the painter's pallet, which he had in the
first instance adopted as his escutcheon, and had
mounted the insignia of his future vocation, — the
pen. By the pen he was thenceforth to gain his
He communicated to me his intention of writing
some tales descriptive of Irish life and manners:
truthful delineations he intended they should be. I
urged him to do so, and reminded him of certain
occurrences related to us when we were boys.
" I cannot take up your ideas," my brother said ;
" you must sit down and commit them to paper your-
After much persuasion, I complied with his re-
quest, and, devoting my spare time to the task
assigned me, the result was the tale, the author-
ship of which is avowed on the title-page to these
Thenceforward my brother and 1 co-operated as
joint producers of the tales appearing from time to
time under the title of "Tales by the O'Hara
family," my brother residing in London, while I
remained where I still live, in, as it is called, " the
faire citie " of Kilkenny.
My brother's nam de plume was Barnes O'Hara ;
mine, Abel O'Hara. And thus it was that we carried
on our partnership : —
We wrought simultaneously, each at his own con-
ception. The productions of Barnes Ollara were
transmitted to Abel, and those of Abel to Barnes ;
and our understanding was, that each was at liberty
to trim and prune, and, if need were, to alter the
manuscript of the other.
We never had a disagreement, as to any liberties
taken the one with the other: the suggestions of
Abel to Barnes, or of Barnes to Abel, were impli-
citly adopted by both without a question. Thus we
continued to go on together, until my brother, in
consequence of the excessive application of his mind,
was disabled by the malady wliich, after many years
of suffering, terminated his life, while yet in the
prime of manhood as to years.
For some time subsequent to his death, I felt a
dislike to follow singly the occupation he and I had
pursued together; at length I published a tale
named "Clough Fionn," in the Dublin University
Magazine ; ** The Town of the Cascades,'* I now
offer as the second single-handed production of
"The Survivor of the O'Hara family."
I have never been, as my brother was, a literary
man by profession. I have always had an occupation,
distinct from that of authorship : and almost all
through, my devotion to my pen has been desultory.
It is not necessary I should here particularize the
Tales contributed by me to the O'Hara series, as
Abel O'Hara ; I will merely state, that they were
not a few.
Why do 1 give, in the shape of a preface, this
short biographical sketch ?
Plainly, because I would insinuate thereby, that
I am not altogether a stranger, making my first ap-
pearance on the literary stage. I venture to claim
recognition as an acquaintance of some standing.
I know full well, that no degree of intimacy will
or ought to influence the reading public, if the fare
offered be unpalatable or unfit to be served up.
With this conviction on my mind, and abiding
judgment, — fair, honest judgment 1 know I shall
receive from the tribunal before which I appear, — 1
offer "The Town of the Cascades" as a single-
handed production of the formerly Abel O'Hara,
The Reader's very humble servant,
Kilkenny, 2r)th November, 18G3.
OHAPTEB I. y^Q^
INTBODUOTORT. — THE BOBNOOH BATHING PLAGE . 1
^ THB TOWN OP THE GASGADES." — THE HILL-TOP
GHT7BGHTABD . . . .14
THE HILL-TOP GHUBGHTABD, CONTINUED 21
BBIDB AND BBIDEOBOOM . .42
THE BBIDE AND TBAOUE ABB INTBODUGBD TO
EAGH OTHBB. — THE WELGOMB HOME . 52
NORA . . . .01
THE BONFIRE . . . . .69
THE DANCE . . . . .80
THE MYSTERIOUS RESIDENT OP "THE TOWN OP
THE cascades" . . . .88
THE "colonel's" GRADE IS DETEBMINICD. — THE
THREE NEIGHBOURS . . . .96
RICHARD o'mEARA's CLIENT . . . 105
HISTORY OP THE WONDEBPUL LEG. — THE LILIFU-
TIAN ARMY ..... 115
FAIR ELLEN, HER THREE KNIGHTS, AND HER AT-
TENDANT MAIDEN .... 124
MICHAEL AND HIS FOSTEB-BROTHEK .137
THE KEG OF POTTEEN. — HOW NED CULKIN WAS
MADE PURBLIND . . .153
**LOVE IN A OOTTAOl" .... 167
MIOHABL*S 6ATHEBINO GBIEFS . .178
HOW MIGHAEL*S PLAN SUCCEEDED . . .190
SUITE ...... 207
• CHAPTER XX.
ANOTHER SHORT CHAPTER. MIOHAEL*S STMILB OF
THE BLUE-BOTTLE, AND MICHAEL's IMITATION
OF FATHER MATHEW . . 210
THE WIDOW- woman's PLAOK OP " BNTERTAINMBNT " 214
THE "LONE boom" .... 221
A "NIGHT OP it" . . . . 231
PLEASANT, HEABTT PELLOWSHIP . . . 242
PUBTHEB JOVIAL EPPECTS OP THE " CHUISKEEN
lawn" . . . .263
TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
THE BORNOCH BATHING-PLACK
The extent of my experience as a traveller is
limited enough. My absences from the spot to
which I have been affixed since I was bom, have
been few and far between. In my aberrations I
have never required a due to enable me to retrace
my steps. Foreign countries I cannot speak of from
personal observation, and even through my own
" Green Isle,*' my wanderings have not been wide,
nor farther from the centre round which I revolve
than such a distance as a two days' journey would
VOL. I. B
2 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
Yet, if one diverge ever so little from the limit of
his own domestic tether, something will present
itself not before noticed, — some local distinction,
unique, mayhap, in character, — some diflFerence of
habit, or manner, or mode of expression, dbtinguish-
ing the " natives " of new ground. So that if one's
gusto for novelty be simple, such as is relished by
the palate unaccustomed to highly-spiced dishes,
food to gratify it may be found almost anywhere.
Whenever I can command even a short relaxation
from the every-day labour of my domiciliary mill, I
like to go about ^' poking my nose " here and there
and everywhere, and I like to examine leisurely and
closely anything that is even partially new to me.
During the autumn, some years ago, — no matter
how many, — ^I had a fortnight's holiday. This, tp
me, long period of leisure, I spent at an out-of-the-
way bathing-place on the coast of Clare. And there,
in one of my " poking " deviations from head-quar-
ters, I picked up the materials for the narrative I
am about to relate.
I call what is to foUow a narrative, not a tale. It
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 3
will not be a tale, properly so called. You will see,
if you have the patience to read it, that there is no
hero or heroine, strictly speaking ;— that it wants
what every one knows to be the main-spring of a
tale, and what sets all the wheels busily turning,-^
namely, an intricate and embarrassing love afiPair.
You will see that I have no romantic adventures to
recite; — in fact that there are none of the sta-
tutable requisites to enable the production to rank
as a tale. This then is to be simply a narrative.
At my out-of-the-way Clare-coast bathing place,
the visitors who come there are called by the perma-
nent residents ^^ Forneyaghs*^ which Irish word
means ^^ sea-diversJ* And the natives are known
by another local appellation — they are " Bornocha.^'
The Fomeyaghs are regarded as birds of passage
who frequent the Bomoch-bay periodically only,
their main occupation while there being to submerge
themselves three or four times daily under the
waves that roll in from the Atlantic for their use.
This they continue to do while the fiuQ weather
lasts, but as winter approaches they take flight with
4 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
the swallows to another land. The " Bornochs"
or natives are, on the contrary, fixed to the spot,
and must there remain duing all seasons and
in all weathers. *^ Bomoch " is the Irish name
for limpit, which species of mollusca abound along
the coast, remaining fastened to the rocks all the
So, to use the language of the locality, I was a
" Fomeyagh " at this unfashionable place of resort
during the period of autumn, some years since.
A description of the "Bomochs*' or Bomoch
village, as I shall call it, not being necessary to my
purpose, I will not enter on it. It will be sufficient
here to say, that the village of the Bornochs stands
above a nearly circular bay opening into the wide
Atlantic, which rolls along in majesty ; and that the
waves, which abroad rise mountain high, are here
broken agadnst a strand, smooth and level beneath
the feet of the " Fomeyaghs " who disport in the
waters. I may add, what I found in my own
instance to be true, that the air about is salubrious
and health-giving to the sea-divers.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 5
Two miles inland from the Bornoch village is
what I believe I must call a town. Of much more
importance it is than the humble bathing-place. It
is too pretentious to be classed as a village, and yet
hardly of sufficient extent to deserve the appellation
of **town." Still, to avoid giving offence I will so
name it. There may be, houses and huts as they
stand, three hundred dwellings within the predncts
of this town. It is admitted by census-takers that
Irish houses contain as many inmates, to speak
moderately, as the houses of any other country. —
And it is a peculiarity which, I believe, has puzzled
political economi3ts, that the smaller the houses
the more close their resemblance to beehives (as
regards population). The three hundred houses
forming the town of which I now speak, contained,
I should say, two thousand ** souls " big and little,
young and old.
There is a main street in this town to the extent
of eighty or one hundred houses on either side. A
church terminates the view down the main street
It is plain to see that many well-to-do people are
6 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
located here, witness the good, carefully-kept dwell-
ings, and the display of shop-wares — neither scanty
nor unattractive. It is not difficult as you pass
along to discover the magnates of the place in the
busy, thriving owners of extensive establishments, or
to separate from these the struggling, hard-pressed
traders. You can easily understand what the pom-
pous carriage of the first, and the unpretentious
bearing of the others signifies. And still easier is it
to recognize those who have nothing at all to bdast
of in a worldly way. You will find the. great, the
less, and the least, with a locally established scale
for measurement, wherever there is a congregation
of human beings.
There are many dingy cabins in the neighbour-
hood of the main street, and the place has also
its "genteel" residences, — small houses where
" genteel " people live. In the outskirts there is a
good Romau Catholic place of worship, and a plain
but extensive building on a height particularly
attracted my notice. I learned it was a convent
school. But as I do not intend to become the typo-
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 7
graphist of this " town," I will not enter further
into particulars, except where they will answer my
The walk from the village of the Bomochs to this
more important town of , is through a country
of singularly uneven surface, of which more here-
after. You enter by a road running parallel with
a river which flows at your left hand, its banks, as
you near the town, being clothed with fine old trees.
From this road you pass over the bridge spanning
the river. If you pause on this bridge, and you can
hardly avoid doing so (you will be curious to learn
why the water is so noisy in its passage), you will
see, immediately below you a succession of cascades,
— the whole breadth of the water felling from one
rocky ledge to another in pellucid sheets, foaming
and tossing, and falling over another, and another,
and another ledge ; — then rushing rapidly onward,
and finally, flowing calmly and smoothly, as if
fatigued by so many somersaults, until it is lost to
view in its curves round wooded heights that rise
8 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
above it on either side. You will see woods mount-
ing above the river to your right and left ; and you
will see, overtopping the woods, the mansion of the
owner of the district, all forming an attractive but
not extensive prospect
Crossing to the opposite parapet of the bridge,
the river is seen in its approach to the cataracts.
It is curling in dimpled eddies round small, shrubby
islands, — smiling pleasantly after its escapades
farther up, where it had had to bound headlong over
other rocky impediments to its progress. These far-
up &lls you cannot see from where you stand, but I
will bring them under your notice shortly from
another point of observation.
Before quitting our present position, however, I
will direct your attention to two points. Looking
up the river, you will see that the banks, right and
left, rise pretty high above it, and that there are
houses built along those elevated banks. Those to
the left you need not particularly notice, but those
topping the right bank — ^those with the broken and
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 9
uneven footway leading to them — demand some
attention. Look at them, and you will understand
that they must have been originally intended as
residences for " genteel people." You will probably
agree with me, that the locality was not well chosen
for the class of tenants called in the town of
"genteel ;" for immediately below you will see bare-
footed women, midleg in the water, thumping
articles of household wear with wooden instruments,
— '' beetling clothes " is the term affixed to the occu-
pation. And you will see, near the sturdy llanehU'
seuiesj horses, with ostlers bestriding them, drinking
the water. "Genteel" people would not readily
subject themselves to such annoyances. And I con-
clude that these houses to the right were what is
called a bad speculation.
Whether my judgment be right or wrong in this
matter, it is evident that the houses have of late
been neglected. They are two stories high, and they
have windows at each side of their hall-doors. It
is evident, however, that a paint-brush has not been
applied to these doors for a very long time ; and
10 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
they are all knockerless, though, it is to be pre-
sumed, originally possessed of such appendages.
Many of the windows, too, are broken and patched
with paper, whilst window-shutters hang by one
hinge, or have been used as temporary barriers
against the entrance of too much wind and rain.
The water-spouts hang in broken scraps here and
there, while the unprotected house-fronts are dingy
and discoloured — ** seedy " houses I will call them,
adopting the term applied to persons whose outward
garb is threadbare and out-of-elbows.
Haying duly remarked these half-dozen " seedy "
or " shabby-genteel " little houses, I will ask you to
carry your eye to the left bank of the river. You will
see there a cluster of inferior dwellings, with one or
two of more consideration rising above them. But
the principal object to which I point is a ruinous
building topping a hill of considerable elevation,
this hill covered with trees from base to summit
So, at least, it appears to us.
I have directed attention to the small, neglected
houses to the right of the river, and to the ruin
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 11
topping the wooded hill on the left, as to these I
shall have to refer hereafter. As a further prelude
to the events 1 have to relate, I will take a view of
a residence coiitiguous to the town, wherein the
principal personages of my narrative dwelt.
Passing from the bridge, and going a short dis-
tance along the main street, and then turning short
down by the post-office, which is in a hollow (a
"genteel" little house by-the-way), a broad and
well-kept carriage-road is gained, running parallel
with the river, and overhung with lofty trees. This
road leads to the mansion-house I have pointed out
from the bridge as elevated above the wooded
heights that overlook the cascades. Before reach-,
ing the entrance gates to the grounds of this man-
sion, a view is obtained, by looking over a low wall
to the right, of a pretty cottage structure. It is a
low building, but of some extent. The casement
windows are nearly hidden by the evergreens that
cover the entire front, but you can see their white
muslin draperies fluttering in the breeze. Through
the green covering of the cottage, abundance of
12 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
roses of every hue and of roseate fragrance, glisten
whenever roses bloom. A rustic porch supporting
graceful creeping plants shades the entrance door,
and this is flanked on either side by a goodly show
of exotics in flower-pot stands. Adjoining the road
is a garden well stocked with fruit trees and choice
vegetables, and beyond this, nearer to the cottage,
and separated by a careftilly clipped hedge, is
ample space for the exclusive cultivation of flowers.
To the right of the cottage, and separated from
the gardens by another trim hedge is a smooth
field of emerald green studded with trees, whose
shadows, when the sun idiines, diequer the surface.
In the fruit and vegetable garden there is a leafy
bower, and in the emerald green field another.
From the first bower a person sitting on its rustic
bench can see the river cascades, and the verdant
slopes beyond, and the woody summits; and the
view of the falling waters, and the voice of the fall-
ing waters, and the green hill-sides, and the varying
foliage, produce a pleasant and dreamy effect on the
mind. From the second bower in the emerald field
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADEa 13
the cottage only, and its gardens, and the trees
beyond, are visible. But the dash of the river as it
descends is heard ; somewhat clamorous, but sooth-
ing and musical, as the sound of falling waters
"THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES." THE HILL-TOP
I SHALL call the little town I have partially described
by a name of my own bestowing, ** The Town of the
Cascades." And by this name it will in future be
During my fortnight's sojourn as a " Fomeyagh,"
in the sea-coast village of the Bomochs, I paid fre-
quent visits to the '*Town of the Cascades," for
the purpose of " poking my nose " in every direction.
I have pointed out an abrupt, wooded hill, seen from
the bridge when looking up the river, this hill bear-
ing on its summit a ruinous building. One of my
poking expeditions was to this ruin.
My way thiiher was through a very wretched out*
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 15
let, where half the grimy cabins were partially
tumbled down, and the people dwelling in the few
that remained^ to all appearance the poorest of the
poor. I was obliged to bend my back most incon-
veniently while scaling this dilapidated street of
hovels. On the apex of the ascent was the ruin I
had seen from below. I found that it stood in the
centre of an enclosed space, and in the enclosing
wall were projecting steps that enabled me to mount
up and enter an elevated burial-ground, in the centre
of which was the ruin I had almost strained my
spine to reach.
Like many an object of desire I have scrambled
after during my life, I found, now I had gained my
goal, that in the roofless building I examined there
was nothing to repay me for the trouble I had
taken. When looking upwards from the bridge, I
had taken it for granted that I was to find some
interesting relic of former days. I found no such
thing. I could learn that a rude, primitive place of
worship had occupied the same space at some un-
recorded date. But I now stood by a comparatively
16 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
modern structurey four roofless walls, without anti-
quity, or architectural decoration, or legend apper-
taining, to give them value. A roofle^ bam would
have been as interesting an object for scrutiny.
The history of the hill-top ruin is this. It had
been erected on the site of an ancient crypt forty
years previous to my visit, and was used as a church.
The devotion of its frequenters was not, however,
sufficiently ardent to neutralize the fatigue encoun-
tered while mounting up, or to reconcile them to the
squalor witnessed during the weekly pilgrimage. So
the edifice was abandoned, and a new church built
of easy access, requiring no more than a modicum
of pious zeal to reach it, and in the approach to
which there need be no brushing of skirts with anti-
christian poverty. The new church I have noticed
before, as terminating the view down the main street
of my " Town of the Cascades."
Seldom, however, do we encounter unmitigated
disappointment If the object we aspire to be mis-
understood by reason of its distance, or from the
vivid colouring of imagination, we may, provided we
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 17
do not give ourselves up to lamentations over our
mistake, find that the labour of attainment has not
been altogether profitless. This not very profound
reflection I made as I sat on a gravestone in the
high-up churchyard I had gained.
The excursion of the eye over an extended plain,
meandering through which you can note the slow
progress of a river gently flowing, and where you
can see trim meadows, and clipped hedges, and em-
bowered farm-houses, and a mansion with woods
clustering around, and villages, and village-spires,
and sheep and kine, and people busy at their tasks
— ^the excursion of the eye, I say, over a landscape
such as these objects make up — ^is most cheering and
gratefid to the spirit But to please what may be the
idiosyncrasy of my taste, the country 1 now viewed
around me was more attractive and mettlesome. As
I looked down from my elevated point of observa-
tion, I formed on the spot a geological system of
my own to account for the appearance of things.
To adopt Cowper's view of the subject, I dropped
my own "bucket" into my own "empty well." I
VOL. I. c
18 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
supposed that at some time or other, when the por-
tion of our globe beneath me was settling into
consistency, the area my eye took in must have been
in a state of turbulent ebullition on a large scale,
the fluid matter surging and boiling, and tumbling
and tossing, and rising up in gigantic inflations and
irregular heavings. I further supposed that while
the throes of the agitated mass were most excessive
and obstreperous, a sudden refrigeration had taken
place, and that while yet rising and falling furiously,
the boiling fluid had become solidified. Following
my, theory, which I have propounded to suit my pur-
pose, I was now perched on the summit of one of
the most riotous of the heaving waves.
Whether I looked east or west, north or south,
there were nothing but hills and hollows. Some of
these hills were conical, some more rounded in
form, some ridgy and craggy, some of easy ascent,
some precipitous — ^in fact, every form of hill you
can conceive was there — no level spot — no plains —
all irregularity. The greater number of the hills
were green or cultivated, many were heath-clad.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 19
some rocky and barren. Hills, hills, hills, endless
hills I And then there were dells, and hollows, and
defiles also, without limit. There were little wooded
valleys, the foliage sometimes creeping up the adja-
cent ascents ; there were dells choked up with furze
and brushwood ; there were gloomy, untraceable
defiles — the whole appearance of the land vouching
for the plausibility of my geological theory.
This topsy-turvy aspect of nature did not want its
signs of life. Farm-houses, perched in shady spots,
were numerous. And there were workers on the
soil. I could see reapers, and hay-makers, and
turf-cutters. And there were cattle up the hill-
sides, and down in the hollows.
Then again, nothing could be more fantastic than
the play of light and shadow over the uneven sur-
face. Yonder, a spot of sunshine, close thereto,
deep shadow — sunshine and shadow alternating in
infinite variety wherever I looked from my grave-
stone observatory. The bridge from which I had
ascended .was so immediately below me that I could
not see it, but the sound of the tumbling river came
to me, mellow and refreshing.
20 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
The sun, in his progress to the west, threw his
lustre more positively in that direction than to north,
or south, or east, and the features of the scene so
lighted attracted my particular notice.
At the farthest point of vision I could see the
ocean — the Bomoch bay I judged it to be — ^reflect-
ing the full lustre of the sun's rays. I could trace
the windings of the river for two miles of its course
as it flowed towards me, rushing through a narrow
dell, impatient and hurried. Here woods rose above
it — there it chafed against rocks — anon the motion
was grave and somewhat level. There was a mill
on its banks, a mile away. I could not hear the
clatter of the wheel, but I could discern its motion
as it flung the spray from it in its evolutions. A
favourable position for a mill that must be, for just
above its site I could see the river predpitated down
from a considerable height, the water glittering like
a sheet of polished silver as it fell.
From the landscape below me I brought my
inspection nearer home, to the immediate spot
THE HILL-TOP CHURCHYARD, CONTINUED.
It is a truism neither new nor profound, that the
visit to a churchyard induces the visitor to become
a moralizer. And no wonder. The promptings to
serious thought are everywhere around. For my
own part, however, I seldom moralize in such places :
in the present instance my cogitations were anything
but deep or sombre.
Cemeteries on an extensive scale have been not
unaptly termed ^^ cities," and this hill-top place of
rest to the weary might in that sense be called a
"village of the dead." It was circumscribed in
space, descending very little below the crown of the
nearly-conical elevation. But a very populous vil-
22 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
lage it seemed to be ; not an inch of it unoccupied.
For the most part its inhabitants must have been
shoulder to shoulder as they lay " with their toes to
the daisies." A good number of tombstones lay
about — oblong slabs supported on low walls of
masonry. These marked the final abodes of the
defunct who had held a certain status while over-
ground, — who had been thriving folk, — who had
lived in snug houses, typified by comfortable "tombs"
placed above them here. There were many orna-
mented head-stones, too, standing upright, some tall,
some of middle height, some dwarfish. It was plain
to me that beneath these, persons of lesser grade slept,
while the respective heights of the head-stones might
fairly be taken as exemplifying a descending scale
in the sleeper's rank while his eyes possessed '^ specu-
lation." There were a few — very few — ^railed-in
monuments where aristocratic remnants lay apart
from the throng. There were so-called " vaults" too,
and of unique construction those vaults were, and
thus formed, as far as I could judge. A portion of
the slaty rock composing the hill being quarried away,
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 23
a recess was shaped : this was arched over, and the
arch covered with sods : the front was then closed
up, partly by masonry, and partly by a monumental
slate: within the chamber thus formed the orna-
mented coffin was placed, where it reposed unsoiled
by the churchyard clay. These ** Taults" I regarded
as the abodes of the "genteel" dwellers on the
But these distinguishing marks were few in the
high-up " village of the dead," as compared with
the abodes of the unnoted population ; those who
had dwelt in hovels while alive outnumbered all the
others by far. A slight elevation above the surface
denoted their homes, a rough stone here and there,
but of remembered shape, serving to mark to the
kneelers who came of a Sunday to pray for those
they had loved, where the remains of their dear
Generally speaking, the Irish are religiously
respectful towards the manes of their deceased
relatives. But here one was pained by the sight
of human remains overground. There is, however.
24 THE TOWN OF THE CABCAUtLti.
an inhospitable soil on this hill top ; it must have
been but half true to say, when the aborigines were
interred here, that they had been "consigned to
Mother Earth;" — ^little or no ''earth,'* property
speaking, must there have been to receive them.
At the present moment a very scanty sod is imme-
diately underfoot; the early occupiers must have
been laid in " narrow houses " scooped out from the
rock. Now, when a new dweller comes, there is not
room for him; an old inhabitant must be either
entirely or partially displaced to give the incoming
tenant accommodation. " Ejectment " must be re-
sorted to here, as with the living, and hence the
unaghtly appearance of human relics and moulder-
We take the monumental statuary of Westminster
Abbey or of Pere la Chaise as a fair average cri-
terion whereby to form a judgment of respective
artistic progress, in a national sense. And I see no
reason why a parity should not exist, making all due
allowances, as regards the stony-hearted churchyard
of which 1 now write. I think the products of the
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 25
artist's chisel on the memorials of the dead in a
country churchyard, offer reliable evidences as to
the degree of sculptural skill attained in the locality.
I go farther even. From the tombstones and
head-stones in a churchyard, I judge of the artistic
gusto of the inhabitanb of a certiun area, taking the
burial-place as the centre of a circle. I take it for
granted that no one will pay for, and place, over the
remains he venerates, any production that does not
come up to his idea of what the sculptor's chisel
ought to realize. Reasoning thus, I arrive at two
very important pieces of information ; viz., the
artistic skill of the district sculptor, and the artistic
appreciation of his patrons. In other words, I thus
obtain a reliable insight into the degree of civiliza-
tion prevailing around me.
But before I examine the sculpture, I must notice
what I regard as an example of praiseworthy eco-
nomy and, I would call it, of wise forethought, which
might elsewhere be followed with advantage : the
ideas of one district transplanted to another, like
the products of the soil, are often improved by
26 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
transmission. The monumental inscriptions on
tomb or headstone were stereotyped repetitions, the
one of the other; scarcely a deviation in any
instance. The name of the person to whose memory
the tablet had been inscribed was first given, with
the age at time of death, and the date of demise.
The reader was next made acquainted with him at
whose expense the memorial had been raised, where
he lived, and what occupation he followed. And
then came the information that the monument had
been erected in commemoration of a dead wife or
husband, or father, or mother, as the case might be
— and not only in commemoration of that dead
person, but also of his or her posterity ad infimitim,
—of the posterity then alive and well, — of the actual
raiser of the monument, — of the scions of the family
yet unborn. At the extreme termination of the
mausoleum slab the usual petition, '^ Reqmescat in
pacBy^ was chiselled, a large space being thus left
whereon to inscribe the names of " the posterity " as
they dropped oflF and came to the final home pro-
vided for them, I need not enlarge on the advan-
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 27
tages of such epitaphs as these in an economical
point of view, or as a sage proviso against the pos-
sible falling off of worldly means, where such might
happen to the posterity.
A connoisseur in painting will decide, from the
tone of colouring, the mannerism of touch, and the
peculiar ideality, as to the master who produced a
doubtful picture. In like manner I was able
to discern that the same artist's chisel had carved
all the funereal sculptures that fell under my notice.
A representation of the crucifixion I found to be
a favourite conception. I am deterred by the sacred-
ness of it from criticising the manner in which this
subject was dealt with. The same feeling does not
control me, however, with regard to the angels and
doves flying about in every direction, nor hold me
back from passing a traveller's judgment on the
other bas-reliefs embellishing the monuments.
There were certain characteristics distinguishing
the angels I found here from any I had seen else-
where, as the product of pencil or of mallet. None
of the angels, in this "village of the dead " were at
28 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
rest : all were in full flight, as if eagerly bent on
the execution of a mission. They were all devoid
of arms too, and the wings were inserted, not at
their backs, where angels' wings are generally
placed, but sprang immediately from the socket of
the shoulder joint. The wings were not pointed in
shape, that is, they were as unlike the wings of a
swallow as could possibly be ; indeed they bore no
resemblance to the wings of any bird of the air that
I know of. From the insertion to the extreme point
the plumes were all of the same length, each plume
shaped after the fashion of a horse-chestnut leaf, and
indented pretty much alike. By this construction
of wing, I understood the artist to convey the idea
that his angels were better adapted for long flights
than for speed. All the celestial messengers were
without attire, and all so thin and spare that you
could count the ribs along their sides. At first I
could not reconcile this cadaverous appearance with
my preconceived idea of angelic beauty. But on
reflection, I understood it as a matter-of-fact deline-
ation of ethereality.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADEa 29
A certain local mark of celestial mission I must
not pass, inasmuch as a due regard of the insignia,
when once understood, enabled me to correct my
error when doubtful as to the being I examined.
Sprouting from the head of each angel was a
small cross, — not always elegantly formed, I must
admit, and not always springing from the same
place. Sometimes the small cross rose up from the
centre of the forehead, sometimes from the right
temple, and in some instances from the left. Although
I have bestowed some attention on the matter, I
have not been able up to this to satisfy myself why
the artist should have affixed the emblem so differ*
ently, unless he would thereby denote a variety of
individual character ; the steady angel, I should say,
wearing his cross in the centre of his forehead, the
rakish angel over the left temple, the most intelli-
gent, above the right.
^^ There seemed to be grades of angels too. One I
irreverently mistook at the first glance for the
representation of an owl. The large, staring eyes,
the solemnity of the fieshless face, the beak-like sharp-
30 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
ness of nose, the disposition of the hair, and a leg-
less body, clipped round as if with a shears where
the legs should spring from, led me to form this
erroneous judgment, when the small cross above the
forehead set me right. The want of legs in this
instance I understood as typical of inferior rank.
Another, having a cross springing up in the
centre of the forehead, directly over the nose,
and having, moreover two other crosses, one over
each temple, I had no hesitation in regarding as
I was particularly struck with the idea conveyed
by the attitude of a third celestial His ethereal
legs (that is, ethereally denuded of human flesh)
were carelessly crossed over jeach other above the
knees, while he was upborne on his expansive and
umbrageous pinions. I understood the pose to mean,
that flying was no inconvenience to him, and that he
Above a chalice the angel Gabriel soared,— his
trumpet, fully as long as himself, plainly establishing
his identity as the angel Gabriel Both of the skin-
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 31
and-bone legs of the angel Gabriel were kicked up
behind his back to the height of his shoulder.
Certainly no disposition of limb would more distinctly
denote what I took to be the artist's .idea, — the
intensity and vigour with which he discharged his
mission of sounding the summons to the dead. I
should remark that the angel Gabriel alone, of all
angels round, was provided with a hand and arm, to
enable him to grasp his trumpet. One only was
given him ; he had no necessity for a second, as he
did not blow two trumpets.
I have said 1 would not exercise my critical pro-
pensities where the subject of the crucifixion called
forth the artbt's genius. This subject, with angels,
and chalices, and doves were the chosen delineations
around me. I must in candour admit that the
chalices were not after any classic design I remem-
ber to have seen. And I must farther give it as my
judgment that the doves were chiselled so as to give
a character of pertness not belonging to this gentle
bird. I am more inclined to bestow eulogy than
condemnation, yet I must say that these monumental
32 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
doves bore a strong resemblance to sparrows, — as if
the artist had adopted for his models the saucy.birds
he was accustomed every day to see.
As I perambulated over the graves, making my
observations, I paused before one of the peculiarly
constructed "vaults" I have described. I was
induced to do so, as the inscriptions on the tablet
varied somewhat from what I have called the stereo-
type that generally prevailed. I copy it from my
note-book : —
" Erected over the remains of his dearly beloved and sainted
mother, by Richard CMeara.
In testimony of his love for her while living
And his reverence for her Memory.
;: Kneel and pray for a happy Eternity to the soul of
Mrs. Ellen O'Meara,
Who lies buried here — and who
died in her thirtieth year.
Requiescat in pace.**
There was in this epitaph a tone of simple, unos-
tentatious affection that interested me, and I obeyed
the call made upon me. I knelt and prayed, as the
son asked me to do. I then scanned the inscription
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 33
over, and was engaged imagining a biography for
this young wife, when a low musical voice accosted
me. Even the Irish brogue can be made musical
by a pleasant, plaintive voice.
" May your prayer be heard, Sir, an' I am sure it
will. If she isn't a blessed saint already she will be
one. For she was good, — an' innocent, — an' comely.
She died young, poor soul, — an' to my belief she died
These words were addressed to pie by a woman
who was engaged spreading out her laundry on the
gravestones. And verily no better spot could she
have found for her purpose than the hill-top church-
yard. For the sun shone down fully there ; and
there was a pleasant autumn breeze waving the rank
grass and nettles, useful for her purpose as well as
pleasant to the cheek. I bad before casually
noticed the woman; I now looked at her more
closely. Never, no matter where, had I seen a
pleasanter-looking person. I should say she might be
about the age mentioned as that of Ellen O'Meara,
for whom I had been praying, at the time of her
VOL. I. D
34 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
death, — thirty or thereabouts. She was in very
humble garb, but there was a cleanliness and tidi-
ness in her apparel, and in her manner of wearing it.
I never saw a cap of more snowy whiteness than that
which covered her wavy auburn hair ; and to this
there was imparted, by the ornamental muslin tie
that fastened behind, an air of taste and simple
decoration that struck me as ver}^ becoming. I saw
that her legs were without stockings, and that her
ankles were tiny and nicely rounded, and that as
much as I saw above the ankle denoted symmetry.
Although she spoke to me, I would say, sadly, — yet
when I looked in her face there was a smile dimpling
it. Not a smile of gaiety, certainly not. The smile
of a kindly sympathizing nature it was. The hazel
eyes beamed too, with the same expression. " This
woman," I said to myself, " is a gentle, amiable,
placid creature, cheerful, and hopeful, and blessed
with peace of heart." Her smile and look told me
all this. As it is very vulgarly expressed, I forth-
with " cottoned to her."
" You knew the person who lies buried here ?" I
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 35
" Oh ! then surely I did — knew her well, — and
loved her well. 'Twas in my arms she drew her last
breath, my poor, loving suflFerer ! — May Heaven be
your bed 1*'
She bowed her head, crossed her forehead, and
looked upward fervently as she said this. And yet
she smiled notwithstanding. I approached, and sat
on a tomb near her.
"Every grave here," I said — I felt, somehow, she
would understand me, — " every grave here has a
tale connected with it, if one could only hold con-
verse with the tenants."
** Indeed, Sir, what you say is truth. There was
never one bom that couldn't tell sometliing worth
" I should like to know something of the young
wife whose epitaph I have been reading."
" An' how do you know but I'd tell it to you ?"
The smile changed; its sadness partly passed
away. She now smiled good-humouredly and her
dimples were deeply indented.
" I shall be most thankful if you will."
36 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
'* You're not from these parts, Sir — ^I'U go bail
you're a Fomeyagh ?"
'* A Fomeyagh I am, verily."
" An' you're over among the Bomochs ?"
" You have guessed aright."
*'Is it making too free to ask where you're
stopping there ?"
" Not in the least too free. I have put up my
quarters at the little hotel immediately fronting the
Here my questioner bent her head a little
towards her left shoulder, and looked at me askance,
and her smile became mirthftJ, and her hazel eyes
" I'd lay a bet that Miss Jenny gives you good
ating an' dhrinking?"
'*Not better. Quite as good as I need wish
" Ham an' chickens ?"
" An' roast an' boiled beef an' mutton, an' turkeys?
an' all sorts?"
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 37
" An' fried eggs, — an' good tay, — an' fish alive
out of the bay ?"
" She does indeed — all this."
" Ah ! — then how I pity you, my poor man 1"
And she bent her head and laughed a tiny laugh.
During the colloquy she continued to manipulate
her clothes as she placed them to dry.
"Miss Jenny Ryan takes good care of her
boarders, — as long as their purses jingle at any rate.
— By coorse you know Michael Hanrahan ?"
" Certainly, certainly, I could not be at Miss
Jenny's hotel without knowing Michael — if you
mean the waiter."
" As for the matter of being waiter, Sir, I b'Heve
poor Michael puts his hand to everything. He
gives a help at the cooking, he tosses the beds with
the ^rl, he polishes the knives an' forks, he goes of
arrands, — an' "
" He dances."
"Ohl — you may say that I — An' well does he
know how 1"
38 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES,
" You seem to be well acquainted with my friend
There was downright quiet humour in her laugh
as she again bent her head aside, her dancing eyes
peering at me as before.
" Ah 1 — why wouldn't I know poor Michael, when
he belongs to me? — Don't you see — here's his
cravat that I'll iron out for him most beautiful."
And she held out a square of the whitest possible
"And them are Michael's," as she pointed to
certain inner garments, " and them's his aprons that
he wears afore him attending at the dinner."
" You are Michael's wife then ?"
" His downright wedded wife I am, no less. To
have an' to hould, for richer for poorer, in sickness
and in health, — 'till death do us part. You see I
don't forget one word of all I promised him. An'
'tis far from my intention to forget it, with Heaven's
" Michael has been most fortunate in his choice
of a wife, at all events."
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 39
"Fm not half good enough for him I can tell
" You seem much attached to him."
" That I am, the poor fellow — an' why wouldn't
I ? Michael would make a queen of me if he could,
an' I take the will for the deed — that's my way."
" And an excellent way it is."
" I suppose, Sir, you didn't come to this time of
your life without getting married ?"
*' I am a married man truly."
" An' by looking at you. Sir, I think you have a
wife that takes care of you."
" No doubt of that either."
" W^U, all I can tell you about it is this. If you
had a cross-grained, cantankerous wife at home, I'd
give you my advice to swim out in the say so far
that you couldn't come back, sooner than go home
to her again."
I spent nearly an hour very pleasantly in such
badinage as this with Mary, the wife of Michael
Hanrahan, the waiter at the little hotel where I
boarded. Finally she informed me that she lived in
40 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
what I have named " the Town of the Cascades."
That she had taken charge of a spa flowing from the
cliff within a short distance of the Bornoch village,
the water of which, as she averred, " would put iron
moulds " on anything it touched. That her business
at this spa was to fill tumblers of the water for such
of the " Forneyaghs " as " thought it wholesome to
have salt wather without an' rusty wather within."
That I would find her at this spa every morning
early, and every evening, " sitting undher a little
cobbey-house " she had contrived in the cliffs, an'
in which she would make room for me. And there,
if I wished it, she would satisfy my curiosity as to
the young wife for whose repose I had prayed.
" But," said I, " will not Michael be jealous if
you and I sit so much together ?"
" Don't you be one bit afeard of that. Sir dear.
Michael would thrust me to sit with a younger — ^ay
an' a comelier man than yourself — if it be not
making too free to say so. But indeed Michael
has no sort of fear on him for me — an' he needn't
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 41
And 80, although I found in the hill-top church-
yard no time-honoured relics such as I had reckoned
on, yet the view of the peculiar scenery I have
sketched,— the examination of the burial-ground, —
but above all, the narrative I owe to Mary Ilanra-
han, repaid me for the clamber upwards.
I trust the perusal may recompense my readers
for having borne me company thither.
BRIDE AND BRIDEGROOM.
If it be not known to every one, it ought to be,
that it is unlucky to get married in May. But
sooner than put the cup away from the lip, people
will often run risks.
Now I would advise my young friends not to
precipitate matters so as to make it a ^^ needs must "
to enter the marriage state in the month of May.
Let them spend that month making their arrange-
ments, and take the irrevocable pledge the month
following. Let them not henceforward plead igno-
rance of the matter.
It was a beautiful day in May, when a chaise
drove towards the bridge overlooking the cascades
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 43
I have described. There were white cockades, with
ribbon-streamers flying therefrom, decorating the
horses' heads. There were four horses, and, neces-
sarily, two postilions, — and the postilions' hats bore
white cockades also. Within the carriage sat the
bride and bridegroom.
When ascending the bridge, the rapid pace of
the horses was slackened at an intimation from the
bridegroom: the face of the bride was seen at
the window looking down the river, and the bride-
groom's face was seen close to hers, and he was
pointing in the direction of the water as he spoke,
visibly engaged describing something. And the
bride once or twice looked up and smiled in her
The inhabitants of six or seven small houses at
the country-side of the bridge had all rushed out
as the chaise drove up. The chaise and four was of
itself sufficient to bring out the men and women and
children, but the wedding favours in addition set
them all on tiptoe.
It had been generally bruited that "Tumey
44 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
O'Meara" had been married, or was to be married.
As sure as the day this must be " Tumey O'Meara ;"
and wasn't he bringing home his bride in style!
Ha ! never fear him I — he was the very fellow to
make the most of it. This was the gist of the gazers'
But the manner in which the inmates of the car-
riage were engaged fell particularly under the obser-
vation of a tall, robust man who was standing ri^dly
erect near the centre arch of the bridge. He had
his own leg at one side of his body, and a substitute
leg at the other ; the back of his left hand rested
against the peak of his gray beaver hat in the style
of a military salute, and his blackthorn cudgel,
point downwards, was extended from him to the full
length of his right arm — in military salute also.
The bridegroom happening to look down, recognized
the accolade by lifting his hat and bowing, laughing
the while. And the bride, smiling cordially, grace-
fully bent her head. Then the carriage, making
quicker progress, drove on.
There was a great hubbub m the main street as
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 45
it progressed. Those living far up the road run
fast down to have a view : those more fortunate, by
whose doors the equipage passed, rushed out to the
full extent of the footway, and very cordial saluta-
tions were given and returned.
Down by the little post-office the postilions cau-
tiously guided their horses on to the carriage-road
running along the river. A little beyond the cot-
tage residence I have before described they went,
— turned short to the right, and stopped at a small
gate that opened into the flower-garden 1 have men-
tioned as immediately before the cottage windows.
Here the bridegroom sprang lightly from the vehicle,
and lifting out his bride, placed her beside him. He
gave a few rapid directions to the postilions, who
passed on with the carriage to the rear of the
premises, while, arm-in-arm, the young couple
went through the flowers and approached the
And here a few words descriptive of them will
not be amiss.
The bridegroom was as fine a specimen of manly
46 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
beauty as you could see. He was tall, fiilly six
feet in height ; his chest was ample ; there was an
undulating taperness from his shoulders to the ex-
tremity of his limbs ; there was an elastic springiness
in his movements, resulting from the perfection of
his proportions, and set in motion by the buoyancy
of his nature. There was an exuberant and even an
ardent gaiety in his dark eye ; even at rest, there
was a smile on his lips, ready to expand to merri-
ment. But his dress was rather dashing than in
good taste. In the way he wore his hat, a little
to one side of his head, together with his genial
air, and other characteristics, there was what would
compel you to aduiit that you looked at a man
brimful of animal spirits and of sanguine tempe-
The bride, with every look and movement, gave
you the idea of gentle unobtrusiveness, of clinging
dependence, of entire devotion to her husband. She
was beautiful, too, but you forgot to examine the
shape of her features, you were so engrossed by their
loveliness of expression.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 47
" And this is to be your home, my Ellen," said
the bridegroom to his bride ; " unworthy of you,
but still our home, my own little wife."
" And a sweet, sweet home you have brought me
to, Richard. We shall be so happy here, dear
** Happy, indeed, my bird — gloriously happy — if I
can make you so. I have been, up to this, a careless
sort of fellow, — paying little regard to the interests
of No. 1, as they call it; but now that one and
one added together make but one still" — and the
bridegroom drew his bride close to him — "I will
become another man. I will change to be as sober
and as steady as any big-wigged judge that ever
sat upon the bench."
" Don't try to be over-serious, Richard ; your
smile I delight to see. It is my very sunshine. Ah I
I should wither beneath your frown !"
" Frown ! — ^my frown^ Ellen ! — why I hardly
know how to frown, my beautiful bride : frowns are
not natural to me, I believe. But were my eye-
brows frozen together, one look from those beloved
48 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
eyes of yours, sweet Ellen, would thaw them asunder.
No, no! — Not only will I not frown myself, but
let me see who shall dare to cast a cloud over
one of my Ellen's days with even a curl of
the brow. Frown on you, my wife! Impossible!
"Then happy shall we be in this smiling little
home of ours, dearest Richard."
" If we be not, there never were two beings happy
since the world began. Ha I is that you, Teague ?
You are the first to greet us, my honest fellow."
These latter words were addressed by the bride-
groom to a splendid mastifi^ who came bounding down
the pathway towards him. Teague, having reached
the object of his welcome, did not frisk about, and
caper, — and whine, as a smaller and less dignified
specimen of the canine race would have done, — but
he elevated his head, looked with the most intense
afiection into his master's eyes, and sent forth from
his expansive chest a modulated, rumbling, and
most expressive bow-wow that no one could mis-
interpret It meant " cead miUe fauliha " to you.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 49
Richard O'Meara," as unmistakably as a dog could
give a salutation utterance.
Teague was a noble dog, one of the true mastiff
breed seldom seen now-a-days. His coat was of
light tan-colour, streaked down the sides with dark
brown ; his chest and paws were white ; his head,
gear coloured like his sides. He was of large dimen-
sions, and apparently of powerful strength. Teague
never yelped, — I take the yelp to be a dog's laugh,
or an expression of his peevishness, according to
modulation. Teague was a silent dog; but there
was an eternal, good-natured smile in his eye as he
met you, provided you and he were acquaintances.
He was never surly ; serious, however, he certainly
was. I have said that Teague was a silent dog,
that is, a dog of few words. He did not waste his
speech in clatter or gabble ; when he bayed at night
to warn irregular characters from entering on his
domain, a single deep bark at intervals he con-
sidered sufficiently significant.
Teague was not a prancing, curveting dog. His
motions were deliberate, and there was a self-appre-
VOL. I. E
50 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
ciation in his mien, free, however, from what is
styled dogmatism, that gave you to understand he
regarded himself as an animal having heavy respon-
sibilities on him, requiring deep thought and prudent
deliberation. A stranger would at once understand
the meaning of his look to be : "I have my eye on
you ; it is not my intention to do you an injury
without good and substantial cause. I have studied
human nature closely, and yov, are an object of
study to me this moment. Do not imagine you can
impose on me by appearances. If you have no bona
fide business here, or if your motive for coming be
an objectionable one, the sooner you move oflF the
better. Take my word, I am not to be trifled with ;
you will have reason to regret it if I find it neces-
sary to expel you by force from the premises I have
No stranger could doubt, as Teague walked round
him and eyed him, that could the dog have spoken
this would have been his address.
I must here acknowledge that I tread on danger-
ous ground in the introduction of even so respectable
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 51
a dog as Richard O'Meara's into this narrative.
Some of the best ''characters" drawn by the un-
rivalled Charles Dickens are his dogs. The tales
wherein they act could not go on half so well without
them. Their agencies are nearly indispensable.
Their individualities, personal and mental, are
brought out as distinctly from the canvas, and are
as visible to the reader's eye asi any other of the
characters painted by that master's hand. I know
well, therefore, that it is a dangerous experiment
on my part to make my readers acquainted with
Teague. It is a matter of necessity with me how-
ever. It will be seen in time that on a particular
and important occasion Teague played a principal
THE BRIDE AND TEAGUE ARE INTRODUCED TO EACH
OTHER. THE WELCOME HOME.
" Come hither, my poor Teague, come hither," said
the bridegroom to his dog. When he began to
speak, Richard O'Meara's right arm was round his
bride's waist, and his left hand clasped her right.
Gently he pledged his confidence that she might
pat the tawny sides of Teague. " Come, my poor
Teague, come here and welcome your mistress
home," the bridegroom repeated. Teague wagged
his tail, not in jerks, but slowly and steadily, strik-
ing his sides with it as it vibrated with a wide
sweep. And he looked smilingly into the speaker's
face, anxious to understand the meaning of the
words addressed to him.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 53
"This is your mistress, Teague, your beautiful
mistress. Your allegiance must henceforward be
divided, and your responsibilities doubled. You
must be a loving, dutiful dog to your young mis-
tress, Teague. You must help your master to be
careful of her, my old dog."
Did the dog comprehend the address? I will
not undertake to answer yea or nay to this query.
But Teague's acts seemed to imply that he did.
First he proceeded to ascertain his mistress's iden-
tity by scent. This point being settled to his satis-
faction, he discovered her hand where it rested by
her side. And the hand being ungloved, Teague
ventured to pass his tongue over it, in the gentlest
manner. She did not withdraw it; the liliest,
silkiest hand would not be hurt or soiled by the
contact. Then Teague caressed the soft hand with
his head ; then he rubbed himself tenderly to her
dress. And he looked up at her, as a knight might
look at his lady when passing the gallery of beauty
at a tourney. Then moving twice or thrice round
the bride and bridegroom as they stood, Teague
54 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
took his position a few paces in advance of them.
Having looked round to ascertain their will, he
discarded all strong expressions of feeling from his
face, assumed a pleased, business-like expresaon of
countenance, and walked leisurely along towards the
door of the cottage, glancing over his shoulder now
and again as he progressed, as much as to say, " I
think this is the road, but it is well to be certain."
*'You will find in honest Teague, Ellen, the
most intelligent, the fondest, and, next to myself,
the most devoted of servitors. You will become
attached to him, as he will be to you, fi'ora this
" * Love me, love my dog,' dear Eichard, shall
be the groundwork of our intimacy. Yes, Teague
and I will be fast friends. I dare promise for both."
Teague was not the only one to welcome Bichard
O'Meara and his bride. Within the leaf-covered
porch, projecting beyond the entrance door, stood a
young man and a young girl — a very young girl
indeed. The young man might be about twenty,
and was not above middle height. His was a pale
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES, 5o
flabby face, that looked even paler than need be
when taken in contrast with his large, jet black
whiskers, and jet black hair, which hair was divided
in tlie middle and combed back over his ears. So
far as the mouth could give indication of character
— and is it not the most expressive feature ? he had,
according to the Irish definition, " an open counte-
nance ;" for the mouth was very wide indeed. You
would be puzzled to say whether it was simplicity
or canniness that stared at you from his large grey
eyes. There was a mixture of both these opposite
qualities, taking the expression of mouth and eyes
together. And there was good-humour and good-
nature not easily ruffled. So that although you
should feel puzzled, as 1 have said, you felt inclined
to become better acquainted with the owner of the
pale round face and staring eyes and full, expan-
sive mouth. He was dressed smartly : his waistcoat
was as yellow as saffron; his blue body-coat was
decorated with two rows of very shining gilt but-
tons ; and from his hips down his person was covered
with a snow-white apron.
56 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
The girl standing by the young man's side was
low, and plump, and tidy. Her attire was neatness
itself from top to toe, but you overlooked her per-
sonal decorations to note the shiny waviness of her
auburn hair, the pleasant twinkling of her hazel
eyes, the bloom of her peachy and peach-shaped
cheeks, the dimples that played incessantly round
her red lips ; for however varied the smile might be,
according to the temper, of her mind, the lips were
never without a smile, either of condolence, of aflFec-
tion, of merriment, or of good-nature.
Such were Michael Hanrahan and Mary Malone
in the days of their courtship. The same Michael
Hanrahan this was that I knew subsequently as
waiter and so forth at the little Bomoch hotel.
And the same Mary it was whom I met in the
hill-top churchyard, and from whoser still smiling
lips I gained the incidents of this narrative, whilst
seated with her in her " cobbey house " in the cliff
above the Bornoch bay.
Teague having preceded his master and his mis-
tress, as he now understood the new comer to be,
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 57
and having ascertained that all was right so far, set
him down on the sanded patch outside the cottage
door. He took his place at seemly dog's distance,
a privileged and interested looker-on at fiirther pro-
ceedings. And he eyed all movements attentively,
as one who felt himself bound to enter every par-
ticular in his note-book, to be pondered over at
leisure, as a reference by which to regulate future
actions. His tail, which projected behind, described
a semicircle in the sand, the motion ceasing now
and again as some occurrence took place requiring
thought, and then vibrating to and fro anew as his
mind became enlightened.
Michael Hanrahan stood, as I have said, on the
threshold of the cottage door, with Mary Malone
beside him. When the bride and bridegroom came
in sight, Michael's body, bending at the hips,
swayed up and down, and his arms accompanied
the motion of his body, this bending and rising
being meant for a repetition of bows, and the ac-
companying movement of the arms significant of the
most heartfelt welcome.
58 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" Welcome, welcome ! A thousand welcomes
home to our young couple," he cried. " Welcome,
again and again, to the master and mistress of the
Here Michael's forehead nearly touched his toes
in the energy [of his greeting. He so remained
doubled for a purpose. He twisted his flexible and
redundant lips altogether on one side, and ad-
dressed the curtsying and smiling Mary through
an acoustic instrument thus formed :
" She's a posy, Mary, — a posy, God bless her !"
Another uprise, and another lengthened bend.
" Welcome, welcome home ! — Mary — a posy she
is surely !"
The movement repeated.- Another loud '* Wel-
come !" and another aside —
" A rose, Mary, — a lily, Mary, — a posy of posies,
Aloud again :
" Wouldn't doubt you, Masther Dick, but you'd
pluck a rosebud I"
"My good Michael," said the laughing ' Masther
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADEa 59
Dick,' "there's a contradiction in all this. You
are, to all appearance, giving us a hearty welcome,
but you won't allow us to cross the threshold.
Don't you see how you and Mary fill up the door-
" Well, well, may I never I— Isn't that a prime
joke, sure ? — Mary, lave the way, and let in the
young couple !" And pulling Mary with him, Mi-
chael retreated within the hall.
" Faith I'd open the door of my heart t'ye, not to
talk of the door of the house. You're welcome.
Ma'am, mighty welcome to us. Walk this way.
Ma'am, this is our parlour." And Michael opened
a door at the right-hand side of the hall. *' This is
our parlour. Ma'am, and welcome you are to it.
May you be happy ; may you be joyful ; and may
sorrow never put foot over the threshold you cross."
" My Ellen, this is Michael Hanrahan," said the
bridegroom. ** He and I are foster-brothers. My
friend Michael wishes to be known as one who often
says foolish things, but Michael is not a fool. He
is an honest, good fellow, and when his foster-
60 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
brother takes Michael's advice, he doesn't go
The bride looked pleasantly at Michael, and he
basked in the sunniness of her gentle smile. She
gently took his hand.
" We shall be good friends, I think, Michael and
I," she said kindly.
"May heaven's angels be round you and with
you," answered Michael, as he ushered the way
into ** their parlour." And the door closed on the
bride and bridegroom.
Michael Hanrahan looked across the hall at
" Mary, isn't she a posy ?"
'< Indeed an' sure she is, Michael, as beautiful a
young creature as ever my eyes rested on."
" Well, Masthcr Dick, if you haven't the luck,
never mind it. And now, with heaven's help, happy
times are in store for us.'* Michael paused, gri-
maced at Mary, and took a sudden and rather sin-
gular way of manifesting his glee. In a boyish,
but not unmusical voice, he began singing the air of
" Haste to the wedding," thus : —
Bow- wa-d iddlt) dce-dcc-doe — '*
62 THE TOWx^ OF THE CASCADES.
and so on. And he danced with great agility about
the hall, exhibiting his most complex steps^ — the
** diddle-dee-dee-dee " executed with an intricacy
puzzling to follow with the eye.
"Sure there isn't such a dancer as Michael in
the County Clare," said Mary to me, when she had
reached this part of her narrative.
"You and I agree on that point, Mary. The
other night he seized on a wandering piper, and
brought him into the kitchen of the hotel. And
he danced half through the night, until he was
footsore. He was only able to hobble about next
'*Ha, ha, ha! The poor fellow! When his
heart is glad he dances for the gladness' sake.
An' what's curious in him, poor boy, I've seen him
dancing away his sorrow. Ay, indeed, Sir ! But
in good deed, if you were looking at him that day
in the hall, the very heart in your buzzum would
jump with pleasure to see him. Ah, ha I How do
you think he finished off his 'Haste to the wed-
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 63
" Why, with some pattern step, I suppose, such
as I have seen him myself perform."
" There's no doubt but he done the ' legs across '
in a way you'd like to see, Sir. You'd think he
was on wires, he was so supple. But, ha ha ! he
went farther than that. I couldn't help moving
my head this way from shouldher to shouldher ; no
more could I help moving my hands this way at
both sides of me, keeping time to the tune. Well,
my honest Michael dances round, until he comes
close to me, and then he does the step in real style,
an' then, — when I wasn't thinking of the like no more
than I am thinking of the like now, — he had me
round the neck with both his arms, and before I could
blink my eye, the rogue — kissed me. Well, well !"
" Ah ! — of course you were very angry, Mary ?"
" Why, Sir, I purtended to be in a rage. But I
wasn't — an' the rogue knew I wasn't. Somehow,
I never could feel angry with Michael, poor fellow,
— ^an' you couldn't look cross when you wem't
cross, you know. Sir."
" You are not often cross, Mary, I am sure."
64 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" Well, Sir, I don't know that; I suppose I was
often conthrary enough. But never with Michael,"
she added ; " 'twould be a pity to vex you, Michael,
for you never vexed me !"
" Teague, good dog, did you ever see her equal
since the day you were pupped ?"
This was Michael's question to the mastiff when
he had coaxed the ill-humour out of Mary that was
not in her at all. Teague had looked on at the
dance of "Haste to the wedding" with manifest
approval. Once or twice even, he stood up, and
seemed inclined to take part in the capering. But
that, on reflection, he considered this out of cha-
racter for a steady dog like himself. As Michael
put the above query to Teague, he rested both hands
on his knees, and placed his own nose in contact
with Teague's. The dog's eyes laughed, and open-
ing his jaws he murmured a pleased assent to the
"Ah! didn't I guess your thoughts, Teague?
THB TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 65
We have a mistress that's worth guarding ; and if
the world was turned topsy-turvy, you and I will
stand by our posy to the last gasp." And he patted
the dog's side lustily.
When Michael turned again into the hall, after
he had exchanged opinions with Teague, his exu-
berance of glee appeared to quit him.
Partly filling up a passage leading to the inferior
portion of the cottage, was a young woman. She
stood there with her arms folded hard across her chest,
and otherwise in a rigid, unfeminine attitude. She
had been there, so standing, when the bridegroom
and bride had entered ; but in Michael's exuberance
of delight he had not noticed her. She now at-
tracted his observation.
** Nora, you look as black as the thunder-cloud,"
he said, reprovingly. ^' There is no welcome for
our bride in your face, Nora."
** Every one isn't to be a play-boy like to Micha-
leen Hanrahan," the girl answered, in a surly tone.
The half Merry-Andrew expression of Michael's
face left it altogether. He became serious at once.
VOL. I. F
66 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
And with his seriousness an intellectuality you
would not have expected as belon^ng to his cha-
racter was in his eye and about his mouth. He
approached close to the scowling girl, and spoke
with quiet seriousness to her, while he held up his
forefinger and shook it at her,
" I understand you, Nora," he said. " Be on
your guard. I'll keep my eye on you, depend upon
"Faugh! you capering bratT cried the girl,
violently, while her black brow beetled over her
eye of jet, and her finely-formed lips were distorted
with anger and disdain.
" Keep your eyes on your own affairs, Michaleen
Hanrahan, or I'll thrust them out with this finger,
an' make a blind man of you."
She pushed the finger suddenly forward, and
Michael retreated a step or two.
^ " Nora, you have no business to be undher this
roof longer, and you must leave it"
"Michaleen Hanrahan 1 my right to be here
is beyond your right. And let me see the one to
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 67
remove me from it. Michaleen Haurahan ! you gave
me a warning. Take another warning from me.
If you meddle or make with me, 'tisu't that grin-
ning ownshuch beyond youll have to deal with."
So saying, Nora turned and was gone.
Michael's face could not lose colour under any cir-
cumstances, as it had no colour to lose. Therefore
it was not unusually pale when he turned to Mary.
But his lips, which were generally of a deep red,
were blanched and bloodless. He took Mary by
the arm, and the right forefinger which he had
shaken at Nora he now raised at Mary.
"Remember, I tell you, Mary! There is sin
and mischief brewing in Nora Spruhan's dark
"Ah! then, Michael, youll find there isn't.
She's vexed a little because she couldn't lave the
kitchen to put on her good clothes, an' to meet the
masther an' misthress. She'll come round, Michael.
Don't look so frightened, my poor boy."
Mary smiled her affectionate, soothing smile as
68 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
" Mischief there is in her, Mary.^ Not the young
girl's mischief that teaches them to put the heart,
across in the boys. That kind of mischief comes
by nature to them, — that mischief they get as a
gift, — ^that they will use, and that they may ! — as
long as the world is a world. 'Tisn't that sort of
mischief that is in Nora Spruhan. 'Tis the mischief
that comes of sin. That you know nothing about,
Mary, acmshJa^ and with God's help you will never
know anything about it. And that you may never
have thoughts the like of Nora Spruhan's thoughts,
is the wish of my heart for you, Mary !"
Mary here paused in her recital.
" Wouldn't any one be fond of Michael, Sir ?"
she asked me. *'He was so pleasant, an', above
all, he was so good!"
"I must say, Mary, that your aflections were
" Indeed an' in thruth they were !" assented Mary
"Once more, welcome to yom* future home, my
Ellen," said Richard O'Meara to his bride, as he
closed the door of the room into which Michael
Uanrahan had ushered them. ^^ Come, look as if
you were at home indeed. This bonnet must no
longer screen my locks of burnished gold, nor shall
this big shawl disguise my Ellen's form. Now,
sunbeam of my cottage and of my heart, welcome,
And Richard O'Meara tenderly embraced his
wife. And he felt the gentle pressure of her arms
around his neck, which, gentle though it was, was
yet more felt than if a cable's utmost strain had
70 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
'* Now I must reconcile the bird I have captured
to the prison provided for her. But our journey
has been long, and perhaps has wearied you,
" Not a bit, Richard, not one bit. And have I
not a stout arm to cling to were the expedition even
long and toilsome."
Ellen was placing her arm within her husband's
as she spoke, looking, as she felt, all sunny happi-
" That will never do, Ellen ; the side where my
heart beats, if you please, — unless it be your wish it
should shift from left to right to be near you."
Ellen tripped round, and, passing her arm
through that ofifered her, she clasped the slender
fingers of both hands together, and leaned with all
her might thereon, so intimating her sense of con-
fidence in the stability of her support, looking up
into her husband's face as a young and happy bride
alone can look.
And thus they went through the cottage from
room to room ; the bridegroom affecting to depre-
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 71
date the really elegant little home he had pro-
vided for his gentle wife, Ellen murmuring her
approval of everything she saw. And she spoke
her real thoughts, for all was covleur de rose around
I will not dog the footsteps of the young couple
as they take their domestic tour. Newly-married
people do not, for some time following their bridal,
feel desirous of the presence of strangers. It is
known to all that there is a honey-moon to succeed
the marriage-vow, a honey-moon that shines for two
persons only, and whose soft beams are but inter-
rupted by the presence of others. Those who have
enjoyed the lustre of this planet need no description
of the peculiar radiance shed by it Others, who
have not, will best appreciate the mellow influence
of the light when, after due preliminary, they
change their state of singleness. This I can say to
all, that no honey-moon shines on the unwedded.
Michael Hanrahan, according to Mary's judg-
ment of whom, " any one would be fond of," did
not exercise the same delicacy. No matter which
72 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
way the bride and bridegFoom turned, there was
Michael Hanrahan's pale, round, flabby face. He
was there ostensibly as an exhibitor, and to open
doors and so forth ; but he was there in reality to
gratify himself by looking at the " posy," which title
he had adopted as an expressive one. While he ran
here and there to intercept ** the progress" or "the
dominions," he nudged and pulled Mary. "Run,
Mary, your sowl 1" he would say, " run and we'll
have another peep at the posy." And so Mary
would scamper after Michael, and by that means
she was often at his side, curtsying and smiling, as
Mary only knew how to smile.
That no part of the geography of the new abode
might be unnoted by the bride, Michael led the
way to the kitchen, where he pointed out the
various delicacies in preparation for the first repast
she was to grace as mistress of the house. Here
Nora Spruhan was at work.
Nora's welcome to her young mistress was af-
fectedly lowly and obsequious. But the gentle
Ellen shrank before the intense scowl of Nora's
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 73
histrous dark eyes. And this expression of hatred
^vjRras changed to deriding scorn as she glanced at the
gentleman-usher, while he threatened her with his
fist behind backs.
Night was covering with her sable pall the
flowers and foliage outside the cottage windows.
The birds had done singing, and had established
themselves under their respective leafy canopies.
The honey-moon alone shone into the pretty draw-
ing-room, where bride and bridegroom, seated toge-
ther on a sofa, murmured to each other in the tone
with which the dove accosts its mate. All at once, a
flash of ruddy light, bursting through the windows,
paled the beams of the gently-shining honey-moon.
The bride clung to the bridegroom, and the bride-
groom himself was not wholly unalarmed. Almost'
simultaneously with the illumination of the room,
there arose a loud shout of human voices. Then
there was a discharge of ordnance, then a more
vociferous shout. After a while there was a second
discharge, followed by more shouting. And this
went on for some time.
74 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES,
" As I live," said the bridegroom, after listening
awhile to the clamour, " they have got up a bonfire
on the road to celebrate our arrival."
And he was right in his surmise. A bonfire
there was on the road beyond the cottage, and in
this wise had it been provided. The whole display
was owing to Michael Hanrahan's exertions.
From the rear of the premises he had brought a
quantity of straw and firewood ; on these he had
piled peat sods, or turf, as the Irish term is. At
first one or two youngsters had looked on at hb
proceedings; these he enlisted as his assistants.
By degrees there were many urchins aiding Mi-
chael ; the numbers went on increasing, and detach-
ments were sent out to scour through " The Town of
the Cascades," and seize on any combustibles they
could lay hands on. So that in a very short time
there was a pyramid of very creditable height and
bulk. By the time this pile was ready for ignition,
a crowd of old and young, of both sexes, had assem-
bled. The brand could not be applied while the
sun was looking on, and his departure was impa*
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 75
tiently waited for. Ignition did not immediately
take place, but ag soon as the fire flamed up, up rose
with it the celebrating shout of those assembled.
Thus are the red glare of light and the huzzaing
that startled the bride and bridegroom satisfEU^rily
The discharge of ordnance is next to be explained.
If any one curious about the matter will accompany
me to the carriage road running parallel with the
rirer, he will there see a circle of demon-like beings,
— demon-like, because half their bodies to all appear-
ance are red hot, — who, with joined hands, are caper-
ing as demons might be supposed to caper about the
fire. The fire is so splendid in its way, that it colours
trees and rocks and all other objects a glowing red,
and the falling water of the cascades is like molten
lead as it tumbles. And the demon who jumps
highest of all the capering circle is Michael Hanra-
ban, his £eice no longer pale, but positively ignited
whenever you catch a glimpse of it.
Within the rampant circle of demons, his person
thoroughly illuminated, you see a stout-bodied man
76 THE TOWK OF THE CASCADES.
seated. You can note hb face quite distinctly.
You think him a grim-looking fellow ; he does not
seem to share in the excitement and half crazy
mirth going on around him. For his hrows are knit
hard over his eyes, and his bony jaws look as if they
were locked together. He has two chairs in requi-
sition ; on one of them he is seated, the other is
placed in front of him, and on it rests an object that
arouses your curiosity. It is not a leg, certainly,
that you see, though it appears to issue from
that part of the body whence a leg should protrude.
And see! — there are four, — ay, six, — active little
fellows bustling about this puzzling object ; — ^look
now ! — ^a tiny, but brilliant jet of sparks rises straight
up, and before you have time to judge what this may
portend, there issues from the extremity of whatever
it may be that rests on the second chair, a hasty and
angry flame. And simultaneously, a deafening
detonation is heard ; the six little fellows, who for
the moment have been passive, toss themselves about
like mad imps, the prancers rush round with
increased velocity, and the welkin rings with the
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 77
huzza of the assembled crowd, big and little as they
Taking the data I have given, I will for the
present leave the friend who has accompanied me to
this scene, to speculate upon the mysterious piece of
ordnance I have so far described, engaging, how-
ever, to make all clear in due course.
There never was a bonfire in Ireland, the magic
radiance of which did not exercise an attractive
power on some professor of music to draw him with-
in its playground — the blaze. The little " Town of
the Cascades" was not without its resident performer,
and in due time " Donnegan the Piper " emerged
firom a lane off the main street, and made his appear-
ance at Michael Hanrahan's conflagration. And
with real cordiality was ** Donnegan the Piper " wel-
comed. The mysterious piece of ordnance had dis-
appeared from the chair it had rested on to make
place for the musician. The piper was blind, but he
had no lack of eager assistants and servitors. Michael
Hanrahan himself enthroned Donnegan the Piper in
the immediate neighbourhood of the man with the
78 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
grim jaws and knitted brows. And as soon as Don-
negan the Piper had screwed his instrument together,
and prepared it for the performance of its office,
away went his elbow, and away pranced the dancers,
and jigs and reels became the order of the night
And now Michael Hanrahan was in his element,
and the intricacy of his steps, and the accuracy with
which he marked every bar of the music against the
road with his feet, and the airiness of his bound, and
the humour of his flings as he changed places with
his partner, drew forth universal plaudits. And
Michael ** danced to " Mary Malone first, you may
be sure ; and then he *' danced to " many others.
And then, while giving place to ** fresh boys," and
wiping his teeming face, the thought struck him to
appoint a deputation, and invite the bride and
bridegroom to the sport
Capering all the way from the bonfire to the cot-
tage, he soon appeared before the young couple, and
putting on his most foolish grin, and bowing, and
panting, and speaking in catches of breath, he com-
municated the unanimous request of the neighbours,
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 79
"that Masther Richard and the darlin' new mis-
thress would come and have a look at the fun that
was going oa" Michael might well call this a
'^ unanimous invitation," inasmuch as not having
asked any one's consent but his own, no one could
disagree with him.
The bride consulted the bridegroom's face, and
the bridegroom being one who had never yet cried
" stop !" whenever mirth was to be found, gallantly
provided the bride's bonnet and shawl, and led her
forth to the scene of impromptu festivity.
On their way they were preceded, first by Michael
Hanrahan, bearing two chairs on his head ; then by
the dog Teague. Teague's ears were watchfully
erect, and his eyes glared with astonishment in the
direction of the unaccountable noise and light.
Twice he paused and looked back to ascertam how
those he had in keeping were thereby affected, or if
they wished him to gallop on and put an end to the
riotous assembly. Perceiving in them no symptoms
of alarm or displeasure, he became reassured, and
trotted on, wondering, to be sure, and curious, but
not feeling called on to interfere.
Michael re-entered the crowd crying out to " make
way." If there could be any doubt as to the unani-
mity of the invitation conveyed by the deputation,
Michael Hanrahan, the acclaim with which the
visitors were received would have dispelled it. In
answer to the cheers of welcome, the bridegroom
waved his hat round his head, while the bride grace-
fully bowed her acknowledgments. Very quickly
they were installed on the chairs brought by the de-
putation, the bridegroom's seat being next to that of
the man with the grim jaws and staring eyes ; that
of the bride beside the bridegroom. Before sitting
down, Richard O'Meara cordially shook hands with
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 81
his neighbour. " Colonel," he said, " I am delighted
to meet you so stout and well. I had the pleasure of
seeing you on the bridge to-day as I came home,
and thank you for the *presen1r anns' you gave
" "Was there — saw you. — Joy, boy — joy, boy !"
The answer was given in four snaps of the appa-
rently locked jaws, which opened and closed
abruptly with each separate snap. There was no
cheeriness in the salutation, nor did the knitting of
the brows relax, or the sternness of •the eyes abate.
The shake of the hand was cordially returned, how-
" Let me introduce the * ColoneV to you, Ellen,"
said the bridegroom to the bride.
The ** Colonel " was erect in an instant, as erect
as was ever colonel in front of his re^ment. And as
he so stood, it became clear that the ordnance from
which the repeated salvos had proceeded really
formed the support of his body at the right side.
The " Colonel " looked with such intensity into the
soft blue eyes of the timorous bride, that she
VOL. I. G ,
82 THE TOWN OF THE OASOADES.
winced beneath his stare. With the left hand he
raised his gray bearer hat to the full extent of his
upraised arm, and with a twirl of his wrist brought
his cudgel to a saUite. In this position he continued
without speaking until Ellen and her husband sat
down. Then, replacing his hat slowly, he sat down
There had been a short cessation of the dancing
on the arrival of the new comers. The pastime was
again set going by Michael Hanrahan, who tripped
up in front of the bride's chair, bowing until his
forehead nearly touched his toes, and scraping his
leg backward and kicking it up behind him, ad-
dressed to her the usual request : —
" Dance to you, if you plaze. Ma'am 1"
Ellen looked at *her husband, and he smiled and
nodded. So Michael, to his proud delight, led her
forth with great gallantry. But gallantry is not the
term to use. To be sure, he expanded his mouth in
the direction of his ears, to a most marvellous
extent. The smile, however, expressed by the ex-
pansion was not one of unmistakable jollity, such
THE TOWN OF THB 0A80ADBS. 83
as he would have put on with another partner ; this
was a smile of gratified pleasure, but it was humble,
deferential pleasure. He had donned his white,
wedding gloves for the occasion, and he did not
grasp the bride's hand in his as he would have
grasped Mary's, but just held the tips of her gloved
fingers resting on his. And he squared his elbow
to such an acute angle that, in Mary's words, " 'twas
so sharp that he could push the eye out of one with
it." And in this fashion Michael led his fair partner
towards the musician.
"What tune will you plaze to have, Ma'am?"
he asked. The bride declined to choose, so Michael
very happily ordered " Haste to the wedding," for
"Well, well," said Mary, "'twould be a day's
journey well-thravelled only to come and look at
him. He danced the same ^ Haste to the wedding '
by himself in the hall most beautiful when he had no
music but his own little dhasa. But now, when
Donnegan the Piper was there to lift it for him —
84 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
an' Donnegan isn't to be bet at the pipes — he went
beyond the beyonds entirely !"
" And how did the bride dance, Mary ?"
" Well — I'd say only middling to plaze my taste.
She sailed about mighty handsome to be sure, soft
an' aisy. Somehow, Sir, she put me in mind of a
swallow, that doesn't clap the wing much, but that
darts hither an' thither, an' turns which way it likes
without any throuble to itself. But sure she hadn't
the steps like Michael, an' you couldn't hear her
footfall no more than if she was a sperrit."
None other but Michael asked the bride to dance.
Michael, when consulted on the poiut, as master of
the ceremonies, "and the masther's own fosther-
brother," put an extinguisher on such freedom.
There was no one there fit to dance with her but
himself, except " the Cumel," and " the Cumel "
was neither inclined to dance, nor could he, owing
to his peculiarity of limb, were he ever so well
The bridegroom danced, and danced frequently.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 85
He entered into the spirit of the scene, buoyantly,
as was his nature. His bride looked on with de-
light as his splendid figure flitted before her. Pass-
ing where she sat he more than once saluted her
by gaily taking ofi^ his hat, and then her acknow-
ledgment was joyous.
Nora Spruhan, the girl against whom Michael
Hanrahan's threatening forefinger had been held up
in the cottage hall, was present. A great meta-
morphose had taken place in Nora's appearance.
She was showily, but, for her, becomingly attired,
and there was about her a bold consciousness of
beauty, a forwardness and self-possession of manner.
No one could help admitting that her eyes of
sparkling jet, her wavy raven hair, her rounded
cheeks and rounded chin, her full and flexible lips,
the roundness of her form, and the ease of her
movements, gave her no slight claims to be called
beautiful. But there was an efirontery — a self-
assertion in her face and carriage, that rendered
this beauty of person rather to be feared than
86 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
But the bridegroom danced with Nora. As he
did so there was a whisper and a murmur amongst
the lookers-on, of which both became conscious,
though on each its eflTect was different. When,
very shortly, Richard O'Meara made his affectedly
rustic bow, and would have retired, the girl
refused to relinquish her partner ; she kept
him by the hand and whirled romid him, until
Michael Hanrahan, availing himself of the rustic
custom, jumped forward to the rescue. Then
Nora, flung disdainfully away from the fresh
vis-a-vis, and dashed through the crowd into the
The bridegroom procured liquor for the assem-
blage at the bonfire, and it went round copiously.
Not one of those present gulped down the beverage
so provided with better will than the man yclept
the *' Colonel." His salutations to the young couple
were fi^uent as his libations went on. By-and-by
he was joined by two others of better grade than
the general throng, and these three drank away
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 87
The bride and bridegroom retired betimes amid
the thorough good wishes of the assemblage at the
And so ended the day of "the hauling-home "
at the Cottage near the Cascades.
THE MYSTERIOUS RESIDENT OF " THE TOWN OF THE
Early in this narrative, while looking up the river
from the bridge, I directed attention to half a dozen
or so of small " shabby-genteel " houses rising above
the right bank of the river.
In three of these, the three nearest the bridge,
dwelt three great cronies. In that immediately at
hand lived the man from whose right limb, as it so
far appears, proceeded the cannonading at the
This strange person was not a native of "The
Town of the Cascades," and the fixing of his
abode there appeared to have been purely acci-
dental. On an evening, three years prior to the
THE TOWN OP THE. CASCADES. 89
period of my narrative, he had arrived from the
county-town as one of the passengers wedged
together on the public car.
Every one who has journeyed on an Irish " pub-
lic car " knows that from starting to pulling-up, the
travellers are right good neighbours for the while ;
that the closer they are packed, the better neigh-
bours they become, and that loud talk, loud
laughter, mirth, and good fellowship make up the
rule of the road. This being the case it was re-
marked as singular and unaccountable that the man
I am now writing of did not once open his lips
during the journey of more than twenty miles, ex-
cept when he opened them to swallow liquor
wherever it could be obtained.
When the car stopped at the "office*' in the
main street, the passengers, except the silent one,
jumped down to scramble for their luggage, and
depart for their several destinations. And when all
had gone off, there he remained, still, without speak-
ing. Exclusive of the beggars, who are numerous,
and who have been often described by tourists.
90 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES:
there is always a knot of inquiring people assembled
to scrutinize the arrivals on the public car, and
sarcastic enough their remarks often are ; generally,
there is a policeman too, to look on quietly, and see
that all is as it should be.
^rhe scrutineers on the present occasion were
deeply interested to discover why this silent man re-
mained in his seat, without any apparent intention
of moving. And the policeman considered he was
bound to step forward and make inquisition. To
the inquiries thereupon addressed to the silent man,
no answer was returned, but he stared at the ques*
tioner with a stem and stupefied gaze. It was
ascertained, however, that the object of curiosity had
a wooden leg, — that he was very drunk, — but that
though helpless from inebriation, his right arm was
firmly twined round a good-sized portmanteau
immediately behind him.
It would have been the manifest duty of the
policeman to have taken this silent, staring man
into his keeping. There could be no doubt that he
was *'a case." Drunken men are called "cases,*'
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADEa 91
but the exacst analysis of the term I am not able to
give. " Cases " of liquor, metaphorically considered,
they may perhaps be.
It was evident to the lookers-on that if any
amongst them were found as " far gone " as the man
sitting on this car, such would be regarded as a
*' case " by the policeman, and dealt with accord-
ingly. But, owing perhaps to a brotherly feeling,
the majority having been " cases " themselves when-
ever practicable, the policeman's present conception
of his duty was greatly approved of, and he received
cordial aid in removing the silent, tipsy, wooden-
legged man into the house of a certain " widow-
woman " near at hand who kept accommodation for
lodgers. The heavy portmanteau, a military cloak,
and a stout blackthorn cudgel found clutched in his
right hand, were accordingly all brought in and
given in charge to the ** widow-woman," together
with the owner of these articles.
Such was the first appearance in "The Town of
the Cascades " of the man now resident in the nearest
of the shabby-genteel houses above the bridge.
92 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
After removing his wooden leg, which was ex-
pertly unstrapped by the policeman, the man was
placed in bed, precautions being taken by the same
official to seal up his portmanteau so that the con-
tents could not be meddled with.
The next morning the silent man was delirious ;
and so he continued for more than a week. It was
remarkable that nearly all his colloquies with the
fanciful personages about his bed were carried on
by signs, and that for ten days the only words he
uttered were, these, — "Ready, present, fire!" —
enough to prove these three words were, that al-
though chary of his speech he was not dumb. The
doctor who attended him asserted that his illness
was the result of intemperate habits, and I suppose
the doctor was right.
After a lapse of ten days the patient's intellect
returned. He beckoned the " widow-woman " who
had been his nurse over to his bedside ; he grasped
" Thanks — good — madam 1" he said — " Honour
and soul — ^not forget it — never 1"
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 93
He rapidly recovered. When able to rise, the
key of the iron-bound portmanteau was forthcoming :
where it had previously been no one could telL
From the portmanteau he drew forth money, and
paid freely and liberally all claims on him.
Whatever may have been his influencing motive,
the silent man now fixed himself permanently in
'*The Town of the Cascades."
From the evening that the silent man had been
consigned from the public car to the "widow-
woman's '^ care, he had been an object of the most
absorbing speculations to, I may safely say, every
resident in my " Town of the Cascades.'*
« Who b he ?"— " What is he ?'— " What is his
name?" — "Where did he come from?" — "What
brought him here?" were questions in every one's
mouth ; questions with which neighbour plied neigh-
bour, and questions that no neighbour could satis-
factorily answer. There were surmises and sus-
picions innumerable, but nothing that could be
relied on as conclusive.
The first day the silent man appeared in the
94 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
main street, he was closely and accurately examined
from head to foot, to enable the observers to come
to something like an accurate decision about him.
It would seem that he was a tall man, and a robust
man, with broad chest and shoulders ; that at the
right side of his body there was a wooden leg :
— that in his right hand he carried a stout cudgel :
— that as he went along he punched his wooden leg
down in a resolute manner : — that at his left side
was his own original left leg, and that this was of
brawny proportion, and that he flung it before him
with a sturdy step, and as if marching in military
It was further remarked that he held his head
loftily, his broad chin pointing upwards. Also,
physiognomists observed, that his teeth appeared to
be riveted together, and that he stared hard at
everything and everybody, from beneath heavy
brows that nearly met together above his hooked
Nor did bis attire pass unnoticed. It was indu-
bitably a blue military frock-coat that he wore.
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 95
buttoned up to his throat. No one but a military
man could endure his black silk stock pulled so
tight beneath his chin. And his blue trousers, with
the red stripe down the outside seam, were mili-
tary trousers, beyond a question. Indeed the only
portion of dress about him not military was the high-
crowned, broad-leafed, drab-colourcd beaver hat
that rose above his head. But even this could not
neutralize the general air and costume of the man.
THE " colonel's " GRADE IS DETERMINED. THE
Nick Mahaffy, the draper and silk-mercer and
so forth, who as the stranger passed had stood at
his door with his thumbs inserted into the armholes
of his waistcoat, straddled halfway across the street
to meet his opposite neighbour, Pat Dreelan, the
grocer and spirit-dealer; and five or six others of
less note, as " birds of a feather," joined these two.
He's an officer on the half-pay list, — ^you may
depend upon it," gurgled out Nick Mahafiy. And
he turned his bullet-head round, his chin revolving
within his capacious cravat, and his prominent blue
eyes rolling from face to face. Nick Mahafiy
regslrded himself as the principal man of the town,
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 97
and as such, he expected that '^ all he said should
" To all appearance what you say is very likely,
Mr. Mahaflfy," modestly assented Pat Dreelan.
" I'm sure of it I say it, and am sure of it"
Nick Maha% became dogmatical, and hb face
was flushed, as he challenged contradiction by
frowning at each of the bystanders separately.
There was an acquiescing nod, or nod and shrewd
wink, from all save Toby Purcell, the keeper of the
**McMahon Arms" hotel. Toby was not a point-
blank dissentient, but he had a jesting remark to
make on all occasions.
" He's not an officer out and out at any rate,"
observed Toby, " for there is some of him wanting.
He forgot his right leg behind him somewhere."
** I say he ^ an officer on the half-pay list," reite-
rated Nick Mahafiy in a passionate tone, his anger
roused when he found his " gospel " questioned even
Luckily, at this instant, the person commented
on, who had paused for a moment, gazing in the
VOL. L H
98 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
direction of the church, which as I have said tenni-
nated the main street, wheeled suddenly and rapidly
round. The knot of observers dispersed at once,
with the exception of Nick Mahaffy, who recrossed
the street slowly, his thumbs still in his waistcoat
boles, neither his dignity or corpulence allowing of
It was not altogether on the dictum of Nick
Mahafi^ that a conclusion was arrived at. The
general judgment led to the adoption of his opinion,
namely, that the ^* silent man'' was a half-pay
Consultations were subsequently held to decide
on his grade. At first the opinions were various.
One thought he must be a captain, another would
dub him major.
" By Jericho," said Toby Purcell, " yoH may as
well for the honour and credit of the town, make
him a general at once. 'Twon't cost you a halfjpenny
Here again Nick Mahafiy came in with his
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 99
** I say it, and I'm sure of it, that he's a Curnel."
So a colonel's rank was awarded to the new-
comer. He never on any occasion when so addressed
repudiated the title, and it became his thencefor-
There was a difference, however, in speaking to
and speaking of this mysterious settler. There was
some doubt as to the colonelcy ; there was none a,s
to the fact of his being on the half-pay list. So it
came about that he was familiarly spoken of as '' the
Half-pay." And the Half-pay I shall in future
Two very material questions were yet to be de-
cided : " Where did he come from ?" and " What
was his name ?"
He could not be traced one inch further than the
county-tOwn somewhat beyond twenty miles distant.
He did not belong to the county-town, however.
There was no doubt as to his country. He was not
English or Scotch ; he was not a ^' northern ;" but
there was no clue to guide inquiry as to which of
the other three provinces of Ireland he had migrated
100 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
from. Then, as to his name. This proved a
mystery too. He had not told his name to toy one.
The *' widow-woman " could not ^ve information.
There was no address or label on his iron-bound
portmanteau, nor had he left behind him on any
occasion one line to enlighten people on this point
The widow-woman had asked his name. She ima-
gined he was vexed with her for so questioning him,
and he was too generous to be vexed by her. But
in answer to her inquiry he had snapped open his
jaws twice to say, ** P. ! W. I"
Now this intelligence was no way satisfactory.
" P. W." could not be the Colonel's name. Toby
Purcell's translations of "Paddy Whelan," or
" Perry Winkle," or " Peery Walsh," were deemed
more witty than wise.
But the stranger received letters at the post-oflSce ?
Yes, he received one letter each quarter on a certain
day. These letters, however, were addressed to
"P. W." So the inquirers remained as much in
the dark as ever. And our friend continued to
be known by no other name, "/atrfd de meiUewr^'
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 101
than that of the Half-pay, or, in addressing him,
that of Colonel.
The 'Half-pay, then, lived in the little " shabby-
genteel '' house on the right of the river, looking up
from the bridge ; and in that one nearest the bridge.
The next door neighbour to the Half-pay was
Ned Culkin, the gauger of the district. Ned
Culkin, as my friend Mary described him, was " a
small round, lump of a man," who up to a certain
hour every day, winter and summer, complained
that " there was a shivering of cowld over him," and
who, while this " shivering of cowld " lasted, was a
blear-eyed, bilious-looking, tottering little creature.
But when his peculiar affection passed off, he was
changed, all at once, into as prancing, chattering,
saucy fellow of his inches as you could meet.
To account for this every-day change in Ned
Culkin, — to assign a cause why up to a certain hour
he would "shiver with cowld," rub his eyes con-
stantly, be sadly despondent, and tottering of gait,
and then, that he should become so suddenly a very
sparrow in pertness and movement, may appear
102 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
diflScult. But the daily contrast in the same in-
dividual can be accounted for notwithstanding.
Every night that Ned Culkin the gauger lay
down, he was brimful of caloric, " from the crown of
his head to the soles of his feet." Every day this
superabundance of caloric departed from the system ;
it was " given out," as I believe the scientific term
IS. During this " giving out " of his surcharge of
caloric, Ned Culkin " shivered with cowld," Ned
Culkin heaved sighs and was sad, Ned Culkin's
very limbs shook under him. He was as useless
as if he were a sensitive steam-engine without
fire under the boiler. This state being irksome to
excess, Ned Culkin was wont to get under weigh
again by a fresh supply of caloric to replace what
had been " given out ;" and so the diflSculty of ex-
planation is surmounted. Need I say, in plain
words, that Ned Culkin the ganger, the next door
neighbour of the Half-pay, was a thorough-going,
incorrigible toper ?
The Colonel's next-door-but-one neighbour was
Tom O'Loughlin. Tom was a scion of what is
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 103
called ^a good family." He was but a younger
son of a younger branch, yet he had inherited a
moderate independence. While this lasted, Tom
was a gay, dashing, sans soud blade. He rode
steeple-chases; he betted like a fellow of spirit,
taking any odds offered ; he raked, and drank, and
sported, without a single glance beyond the excite-
ment of the hour^ thus leading, as he himself reck-
lessly expressed it in his £sivourite toast, ^' a short
life and a merry one!"
All this ended as it needs must end. And now
Tom O'Loughlin inhabited the most dilapidated
of the shabby-genteel houses above the bridge ; that
immediately adjoining Ned Culkin's residence.
Tom O'Loughlin was avoided by every one, be-
cause he would fain beg or borrow of every one.
He had none but chance resources left ; such pre-
carious aid as his plagued relatives bestowed on him.
His attire was always old and ill assorted, made up
of odds and ends of clothing flung to him. In
person he was lean, and seemed diminutive from the
crouching bend of his body. His head was sunk
104 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
between his lahoulders ; his hands were almost con-
stantly passing through each other at his chest, not
far below his chin. There was a self-depreciating
meekness in his tone of voice as he spoke, and the
wrinkles of his face had taken the expression of an
insmuating grin. Even in his ejttreme poverty, the
desire for indulgence had not left him, and he would
ingratiate himself wherever his subserviency up ight
lead to gratification. Tom O'Loughlin was known
in the " Town of the Cascades " as " the decayed
gentleman." And to the credit of the inhabitants
be it recorded, that the poor wretch was regarded
rather as an object of commiseration than of censure.
These three near neighbours, — the Half-pay, Ned
Culkm the ganger, and Tom O'Loughlin, " the
decayed gentleman," were three great cronies.
BICHABD O'mEARA's CLIENT.
When introducing him to notice, I have said that
Richard O'Meara was a splendid man. And so he
"If you met him walking down there," said
Michael Hanrahan to me, pointing at the same
time to the promenade oppodte the little Bomoch
hotel, " if you met him walking abroad there, you
couldn't but take a liking to him. He didn't
swagger and want to pass himself off as a grandee,
like the Fomeyaghs that's strutting so pompous
there this moment. No here's the way he went —
this way — "
And Michael held himself up, took the cane from
106 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
my hand, held it gingerly between his fingers,
pointed his toes, extended his large lips to a plea-
sant simper, and slid along before me with all the
grace of motion he could assume.
" Tou couldn't for the life of you pass him by,"
continued Michael, handing me back my cane,
" without, I'd say, falling in love with him. And I
never wondered at the poor misthress, God be good
to her, to dote upon him, which she did to her
dying day. He was a grand fellow entirely, and
then he had such a pleasant smile, and such a plea^
sant word always, and he was such a hearty, good-
natured fellow, besides all that, that you'd wish him
all sorts of good luck every time you'd cross him."
Richard O'Meara was the son of one of those
called ^' gentleman-farmers," a class not uncommon
in Ireland. Old Mr. O'Meara was desirous that
his favourite son should make his way in the world,
and with this view he had educated him well, and
had given him the profession of an attorney, or
solicitor, whichever may be the proper term. Two
years before he had brought his bride to the cottage
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 107
near the cascades he had begun to practise as the
attorney of the district
As the result of my inquiries, I have ascertained
that owing to his personal endowments, his un-
doubted capacity, and his known high principles,
he began the world with every fair prospect before
him. Yet, up to the period of his marriage, Richard
O'Meara had gained but little permanent standing
in his business. He was too gay a fellow for the
drudgery of the desk or for steady application.
From personal liking, people wished to employ him,
but they paused before intrusting their serious con*
cems to his care. It was not at the race-course or
other place of public amusement, that law-papers
could be put in training; nor did his nocturnal
orgies prepare his head for the routine labour of his
Occasionally in matters of importance, parti-
cularly where display was to be made, Richard
O'Meara would apply himself to become master of a
particular case, and at the sessions-court, or other
local tribunal, he would exhibit first-rate ability, and
108 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
80 gain high applause. And he was popularly
regarded as a first-rate advocate.
There was a degree of Quixotism very rare in the
profession often guiding our young solicitor in his
practice. Whenever the great oppressed the humble,
whenever the rich was against the poor, Richard
O'Meara was found to be at the weaker side. And
on such occasions he brought to bear a resolution,
an energy, and a talent that showed what he was
made of when he wished to work. It would appear
that the less his client had it in his power to recom-
pense him, the more ardent and enthusiastic was he.
This tendency of his did not certainly evince great
worldly prudence, and sunk him very low in the
estimation of his brethren of the sessions-court, as
being unprofessional in every sense.
Different persons attributed different motives to
Richard O'Meara. Some said that his frequent
advocacy of the poor arose from the generosity of
his nature, which rose up in combat against what-
ever had the appearance of oppression. This was
Michael Hanrahan's opinion. But this judgment
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADESL 109
was repudiated by others who insisted there could
not be such a quality as generosity found in combi-
nation with an attorney's] nature ; that even if such
a weakness had originally existed, it must have been
pulled up, root and branch, during the term of ap-
prenticeship. So another cause was assigned for
Richard O'Meara's singular propensity. It was said
that he had been slighted by the " gentry " in his
endeavours to keep pace with them, and that he
** had a sting in for them."
Richard O'Meara's proceedings, whajtever their
motive may have been, had procured for him the
title of " the poor man's attorney."
In a neighbouring county lived at this time an
orphan girl. Her father had been long dead, her
mother more recently, and she was, though well-
descended on both sides, in extreme poverty. It
was said that a considerable dowry was withheld
from her by a relative living far away, and that
through some legal quibble. The poor girl had not
means to assert her rights. Richard O'Meara be-
110 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
came ax^cidentally acquainted with her; she was
very beautiful and winning, and he soon loved her.
He may have been the poor man's advocate from
generous impulse, according to Michael Hanrahan
and others kindlily disposed towards him, or to
satisfy a waspish nature by bestowing his sting here
and there, as was on the other hand asserted. But
here love was the motive-power. And love is a
He gained the orphan's suit, and in an instant, I
may say, she was rich— comparatively rich.
While acting for this client, the intercourse be-
tween them was necessarily constant. Gratitude
was in the girl's heart ; gratitude and love are of
close kindred ; gratitude is often, as in the present
instance, no more than a purveyor to love. The
transfer from the one to the other is quickly and
readily perfected. There is no need for documen-
tary interference, or for legal technicality, or legal
tardiness. And the orphan loved the talented, and
thoughtful, and assiduous, and successful, and hand-
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. Ill
flome young solicitor to whom she owed the recovery
of her dower.
" Dear Mr. O'Meara," said Ellen McMahon, with
tears in her soft eyes, " I can never — never thank
you. But I am indeed grateful, deeply gratefiiL"
She impulsively extended her hand to the person
she addressed, and raised her tearful eyes to his.
But those eyes, consequent on something they met
in his, fell instantly, and love, as he often does,
coloured her face deep crimson. And then, by
another fantastic proceeding not unusual to him, he
took away every drop of blood from her face, and set
poor gentle Ellen trembling. She thought she ought
to withdraw her hand, for very sensibly she felt that
the young solicitor pressed it fervently. But here
again love took it upon him to act arbitrarily. He
seized her arm, and held it outstretched, while the
hand remained where she placed it.
" I am not deeply grateful. Miss McMahon,"
answered her solicitor. And his rich, full voice was
without one sharp, business-like intonation to qualify
its mellow touch of " brogue."
112 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.'
"I am not grateful," he repeated, **and I have
no reason to be grateful."
The client's eyes looked up again to inquire the
meaning of these words, but they fell even more
promptly than before.
''You do not understand my meaning, I see.
But listen. I have done you a trifling good, not
worthy of your deep gratitude however. In return,
how have you acted? You have made me your
captive for life — ^is this a fit return for even so slen-
der a service as I have rendered you ? Why then
should I be grateful?"
The speaker felt the little hand quiver in his
grasp. But was that a smile the solicitor in a new
cause saw curving Ellen's lips ?
"Mr. O'Meara," she softly began. And then
she paused, and paused, courage failing her to pro-
"I await your plea, my fair client," said the
solicitor. Still no answer, until the silence became
''MissMcMahon," at length the solicitor said, '' I
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 113
will quit all light allusion to the subject I have
lightly commeDced. Be seated for a moment, and
He gently placed her in a seat, and took another
beside her. He did not part with the passive little
hand however. It would have been manifestly un-
professional to do so ; — " Possession is nine points
of the law," you know.
" Even before your suit commenced I loved you ;
perhaps my ardency in your cause was owing to this.
But I forbore awhile to urge my affection because it
might appear as though I were seeking to make my
advocacy conditional with you. I came to the resolve
that when I had succeeded, as I was determined to
do, I would depart, and try to live down a love that
might seem interested and mercenary. But this
resolution I cannot keep. Before Heaven I declare
that had you remained poor, had my exertions in
your cause been unsuccessful, I would have sought
your love as the most precious thing on earth. Ellen,
will you, with full confidence in my motives, bestow
it on me now ?"
VOL. I. I
114 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
What said the little hand, and what the tremulous
lips, and timid eyes, I need not expatiate upon.
Was it not Ellen McMahon we have seen brought
as Richard O'Meara's bride to the Cottage of the
HISTORY OF THE WONDERFUL LEG. THE LILIPUTLA.N
Almost immediately foUowiug the establishment of
the Half-pay in my " Town of the Cascades," he was
universally known, and, as I learned, the object of
universal good will.
** Michael told me," said Mary Hanrahan, " that
down to the dogs an' cats, an' the cocks an' hens,
an' the ducks an' geese, — all had a regard for the
poor Half-pay. The sparrows themselves made
freer with him than with anybody else. Ay, an' I
heerd farther than that same : I heerd that if he
held up his wooden leg they'd hop on it when they
came to pick up the crumbs he'd give them. But
116 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
that last was a fable, I'm sure. Michael didn't give
credit to it, an' neither did I "
Between one and two in the afternoon of each
day the Half-pay was seen descending the uneven
way from his little shabby-genteel residence, delving
the wooden leg into the crumbling surface to secure
himself against accidents. Then he proceeded to
the bridge, whereon he took up his position.
"He was never earlier," said Mary Hanrahan,
" than between one and two o'clock. * Early to bed
an' early to rise,' you know ; and becoorse, late to bed
is late to rise. An' if ' the early bird catches the
worms,' the Half-pay didn't catch a worm while he
was amongst us. Ned Culkin the gauger, an' Tom
O'Loughlin the decayed gentleman, an' himself,
used to sit over their tumbler till all hours — ^that
was all the harm in the poor man. Be the same
token there was a name for Ned Culkin the gauger
besides his own. People used to call him ' Seldom
When the Half-pay reached the bridge after " his
night over his tumbler," he generally looked down
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 117
earnestly, as if to make sure that the cascades
were tumbling with their usual vigour, and that
nothing was wrong with them. Then he gazed at
both banks, and then as far as he could carry his
eyes down the water. He was usually provided
with a few pebbles to shy at any trout that happened
to break the surface below him ; it was not recorded,
however, that he had succeeded in hitting a single
fish. When the Half-pay's duty was so far dis-
charged, he would wheel round, and placing his
back to the parapet of the bridge, he would scruti-
nize the passengers as intently as if he were a
detective on duty.
If a well-looking girleen tripped by, he placed the
forefinger of his left hand in contact with the peak
of his beaver, and screwed his left eye into a hkrd
wink. If a female of respectable class passed him,
he placed the edge of his open left hand above the
peak, and did not wink. If one of still better grade
came, he raised his beaver, and with a rapid twist of
his right wrist, brought his cudgel to a present arms.
In return the Half-pay received merry smiles, familiar
118 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
nods, and gracious bows, — as the case might be,
and suitable to the person acknowledging his salute.
With some of his own sex he shook hands ; with
others he was more distant in his greetings ; few
went by, however, without some mark of recognition
on his part.
When verbally saluted with "Good morrow and
good luck to you, Colonel," or some such accost, he
returned a verbal answer — a very concise one, how-
ever. The " Good morning to you kindly, So-and-
So," which another man would have used he had
contracted to a monosyllable once or twice repeated,
according to his appreciation of the person. It was
either " Maw," or " Maw — ^maw — ^maw."
Nor did the Half-pay confine his notice to the
, gTown-up passengers on the bridge. Not one child
scampered by him that he did not tap on the head
with his cudgel, not so hard as to hurt him, but
quite hard enough to make him pause in his race
and look back at him in astonishment. At first he
puzzled them, one and all. As they opened their
eyes, and stared at him in wonder, to ascertain
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 119
whether he was friend or foe, the assailant, with
erect neck and closely-clasped teeth, would be
observed straining his eyes after some £Bur-off object
up the water, and beckoning as if to some one at a
This clever deception was not however of long
continuance. Little heads were laid together, spies
were set ; very shortly the Half-pay was convicted,
on undeniable testimony, of being the assailant of
the juvenile discoverers. And with childish acute-
ness it was understood that the taps were given in
play only. As soon as this conclusion was arrived
at, war was declared, and plans were devised for
carrying on hostilities. Keeping beyond the reach
of the cudgely forces were mustered, defiance was
proclaimed. The stoutest and nimblest of the
urchins were detached, to creep cautiously and
pluck the enemy by the skirts, the successful on-
slaught to be followed by an immediate retreat to
the shouting comrades who shared the glory of the
enterprise. Following such assaults, the Half-pay
would bounce and whirl his cudgel, as Orlando
120 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
Furioso would have done. So bold did the assail-
ants become that one daring little fellow, armed
with as heavy a bludgeon as he could wield, stole,
Indian-like, on the apparently unwatchful foe, and
inflicted a terrible bang on — the wooden leg. The
fi[alf-pay immediately stooped, and chafed the mem-
ber, and moaned, as it were, with pain, and fiercely
brandished his weapon, and looked as if he were a
Gulliver, ready and willing to swallow the entire
throng of screaming, prancing Liliputians.
Except they were altogether new-comers, the
Half-pay could not henceforth get one head within
reach of his blackthorn; he could not make one
prisoner to retain as hostage ; he could stump fast
enough to the assault ; in a hand-to-hand struggle
he must have been the victor. But this proved to
be a guerilla campaign against a regular army.
The enemy retreated instantly on his approach, to
renew the attack when opportunity ofiered.
Thus beset, unable to bring the foe to close
quarters, the Half-pay hit upon a piece of generalship
worthy of him. Amongst a collection of old iron
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 121
offered for sale he discovered a rusty blunderbuss-
barrel. He got part of his wooden leg sawn off,
and the blunderbuss-barrel substituted. The original
touch-hole at the side being plugged up, another
was bored uppermost instead. A wooden plug was
fitted to the muzzle to be inserted and withdrawn
at pleasure. And the leg being thus rendered
composite, part wood, part iron, the owner issued
from the smith's forge in Bow-lane accoutred for
The first discharge of this piece of ordnance
(loaded with powder only) scattered the guerillas in
every dbection, and at length a prisoner was cap-
tured. The little rascal, so brave before, squalled
within the grip of the remorseless captor. He was
led in durance to an apple-stall at the foot of the
bridge, and every available opening in his uniform
was stuffed with rosy fruit. Thus disgraced he was
suffered to prance away, as nimbly as his freight
allowed him to progress.
The very next battle the conquering Half-pay had
as many prisoners in his keeping as he could take
122 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
charge of. Ultimately he was forced to confine his
captures to one enemy each engagement — so ex-
pensive was it to provision them for their subsequent
Not only did this general defeat his enemies, but,
following the example of the ancient Romans, he
took them into his alliance to a certain extent
For his former foes sought it as a desirable privilege
to be allowed to fire off the composite leg that had
created such consternation at the outset. And
expert gunners some of them became, as was shown
in my description of the cannonading at the bonfire.
I should add that no matter whether the Half-pay
winked at the pretty girls, or saluted others accord-
ing to station ; or shook hands with some men, or
said "Maw!" to more; — while he stood on the
bridge, or stumped through the streets ; whether he
fought battles, gained victories, or captured prisoners,
the Half-pay spoke little, and never laughed. Never-
theless, it was shrewdly guessed that between his
lips and hard-closed teeth a good deal of silent
laughter went on ; that he internally laughed at his
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 123
urchin foes, and internally laughed with high relish
at the impenetrable mystery in which he had con-
trived to envelop himself — impenetrable to the
keenest scrutiny of the dwellers in my " Town of the
PAIR ELLEN, HER THREE KNIGHTS, AND HER
When Richard O'Meara said to his Ellen that he
would have wooed her in poverty, for the treasure
of herself, he but spoke his real sentiments. He
was not one to utter falsehoods, even to a girl, as
many "honourable" fellows will think it very fine
That his love for Ellen McMahon was real and
sincere, there is no question. Constitutionally ardent
and impetuous, his afiPection for her was as warm and
deep as such a nature could bring forth.
He was a disinterested fellow, too, incapable of
taking a mean advantage of any one. And that
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 125
his love for Ellen was nowise mercenary, he fiilly
proved, even to the most suspicious. Previous to
the marriage ceremony, the bride's dowry, which I
may say he had bestowed upon her, he secured
to herself, every penny of it, sure and fast. This
might be about three thousand pounds in funded
property ; and the income thence accruing was pay-
able to her alone.
Ellen McMahon was all heart, but there was no
self-reliance in her character, no self-assertion, no
self-sustainment. Her every look was an appeal for
aid and protection. From all I could learn, the
faultless, manly person of Richard O'Meara had
fascinated her eye ; his generosity and services had
given him her love.
Another in Ellen's position would have felt there
were certain unpleasantnesses to be borne as Richard
Previous to his marriage, Richard O'Meara the
attorney ambitioned, as I have hinted, to keep pace
with men of station and fortune who were his
chance companions at the race-course or other places
126 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
of public amusement. But he found that although
he and such high folk were on good terms generally,
he received no encouragement as a visitor at their
houses, or in their family circles. Just the con-
trary. Prudent jperes de famiUe^ or more prudent
mothers, would not place so fine a young fellow on
a footing of dangerous intimacy with their daughters.
Hence the " sting " which it was supposed he kept
in reserve for aristocratic suitors in the local courts.
Persons of the middling class resented the attorney's
assumption of superiority. With these he had no
footing ; neither did he seek it.
For these reasons Ellen O'Meara, when she had
taken possession of her Cottage of the Cascades,
had no female companions. There were no bridal
visitings, no bridal entertainments, no bridal fiiss or
pleasant bustle. But Ellen CMeara did not feel
this isolation a privation. It was her nature to
shrink from the glaring sunshine, and to bloom
sweetest in the shade. Her husband's sustaining
love was suflScient for Ellen O'Meara. With his
arm to lean on, with his smile to greet her, and his
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 127
jocund humour to elicit her silvery laughter, she did
not pine for foreign associations.
Besides, Ellen could command the services of
three knights as devoted as knights could be, and
of one attendant maiden, whose fidelity and attach-
ment were not to be surpassed.
The first of these faithful knights was Michael
Hanrahan. Second to Michael Hanrahan I will
place the mastiflT, Teague. Third in order was our
friend the Half-pay, who was a knight after a
chivalry of his own. And the devoted maiden was
Mary Malone, the chief narrator of the circum-
stances I am relating.
So that, although without visitors, and leaving
the all-engrossing attachment between husband and
wife out of the question, Ellen did not regard her
life as a solitary one. The three knights I have
named and the one attendant maiden were* in-
fluenced in their devotion to her by her beauty, by
her dove-like gentleness, and very probably by her
timid dependenca And the knights were quite
ready to encounter giants, dragons, ogres, or any
128 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
other odds, as was the maiden to suffer, for her
It is an enticing day. The sun is smiling down
upon the river, and the river, as it dimples onward,
smiles in return up to the sun. The sun's rays are
refracted into the prismatic colours in their passage
through the medium of the waterfalls. The winged
breeze is gamboling through the foliage, and
chequers the green sod with dancing light and
shadow. It is a day to enjoy a refreshing saunter :
one is urged to it just as the linnet that has been
constructing its nest in the garden-hedge is im-
pelled to vault upward and downward, and to flutter
joyously in ether.
Ellen O'Meara stood on the threshold of her
cottage, and looked abroad. The breeze, as it flew
by, kissed her cheeks and forehead, and fondled
with her auburn curls. The dog Teague was
seated without : anon he looked full into the face
of his lady ; then he turned his eyes upward, as if
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 129
scanning the firmament ; then he capered a sedate
caper, looked over the right shoulder, and over the
lefty sat him down again, and fixed his full gaze
on the object of his devotioa The dog's meaning
was manifest : " Let us fetch a walk by the water-
side, fair mistress : it will be very pleasant. And,
my word for it, we shall have no rain to-day."
At this juncture, Michael Hanrahan entered the
garden by the green wicket at the right-hand side.
Michael was bareheaded, and he was, as Mary ex-
pressed it, ^' humming a dhass" As soon as he ob-
served the lithe form standing beneath the festooned
porch, he wheeled sharp round ; with both his palms
he smoothed his front, gave the locks at his temples
a twist round his finger, scraped his large whiskers
forward after the manner of a rabbit dusting the sand
from its jaws, and then he wheeled round again,
his expansive lips dressed in their broadest simper.
Michael stepping gingerly along, approached his
" Ma'am," he said, bowing to her, " I'm afther
discoorsing Master Dick round at the office. As
VOL. I. K
130 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
busy as a bee in a paddock he isr— and more of that
to him is my prayer. He can't leave the job he's
at, Ma'am, and he sent his compliments and his love
by me, Ma'am. And, Michael," says he, " tell the
" The v;Aa<, Michael?"
'' Ha, ha 1 That was a slip of the tongue, Ma'am.
'Tis so often on my lips that they're used to it. It's
only the name we have for you. Ma'am, Mary and
myself. And sure you are the posy of our garden
— the posy of posies I But you won't be dis-
pleased, Ma'am, against us for calling you so ?"
*'Who would be displeased, Michael, at being
called by such a pretty name ?"
"Well, but it wasn't the posy Masther Dick
called you. Ma'am. < Michael,' says he, ' tell Mrs.
O'Meara from me to go take a walk by the river-
side. And let you and honest Teague walk before
her, Michael,' he says in his pleasant way, *and
don't let Saint Pether if you meet him look cross at
her. And let Mary Malone walk out too,' says
Masther Dick, ^ 'tis a fine day for it, Michael, and
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 131
there will be health in it for ye all So be off as
fiist as ye can,' says he to myself."
"I was thinking of a stroll myself, Michael," an-
swered the posy, "and since Mr. O'Meara wishes
it, we had better set off as he desires us."
Michael was on the alert instantly. Mary was
summoned to attend her mistress, and very shortly
they were ready to set out. Michael furnished
himself with a long staff, his pony, as he called it,
too long to be leant on, and which he grasped after
the fashion of our grandmothers, now, they tell me,
creeping in amongst their modish great-grand-
daughters. He and Teague took the front rank,
" the posy " following, Mary a step behind. Michael
stepped out with the air of a herald, and after a
gambol or two Teague fell into his staid, business
" Michael marched along as proud as a paycock,"
said Mary to me, " an' if you saw the care he took
of us, you'd be plaised at it. * Not too near the
water there. Ma'am,' he'd say ; ' the bank is slip-
pery.' *A little damp just there, Ma'am,' he'd
132 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
say; *step over it/ An' he'd dhraw a criss-cross
with his wattle to mark where the damp was on the
path. If the bough of a tree hung low, he'd pull it
to one side, an' with a nice bow, like any gentleman,
he'd keep it out of the way until we'd pass by. An'
when our posy would say, as soft as a turtle-dove,
* Thank you, thank you, Michael,' my poor Michael
would lean his two hands upon his wattle — that he'd
put slanting, — an' he'd kick up his two heels behind^
as high as his head (I couldn't show you how he done
that, you know), an' away before us he'd scamper like
a buck, to keep hurt or harm out of our way. If a
flower was growing up on a bank, or down in a
hollow, an' that he thought it purty to look at, up
he went like a mad cat, or down he darted like a
weazel, to pluck it for our posy. An' if you'd seen
how handsome he'd make his ofiering, indeed an
indeed you'd have a liking for him, though you were
hb enemy I
" An' the poor Teague," continued Mary, her
face lighting up brilliantly as her memory reflected
back past sunshine, ^Hhat was a dog with more
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 133
knowledge than many a Christian I knew in my
time. If you saw how he watched Michael cutting
his capers, an' if you heard him saying, * Wow — wow
— ^wow,' without barking at all, you'd undherstand
him to mean quite plain, * Well done, Michael, my
boy !' Ay, an' the honest dog must give pleasure
to tiie posy too, his ownself. He'd bring his bit of
stick an' he'd lay it down at her feet, an' he'd cut
a curry -whibble round, an' look at the wather. An'
we'd all know he was saying without words ; * I can
swim aqual to any duck, wouldn't you like to see me
at it?' Then the posy would pitch the stick about
half a yard or so ; she couldn't pitch it farther, the
crature — ^an' you'd almost laugh to see the great job
she made of that same. Then 'twas mighty pleasant
to hear the pullaloo of joy coming ifrom the dog, an'
in he'd toss himself from the high bank, an' come back
to lay his bit of stick down at the posy's feet again,
looking as proud as a lord, the poor fellow. An'
indeed you'd wondher to look at him when we met
a sthr^ger coming the way. Teague would march
before us an' keep his eye dose on the watch until
134 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
the person passed a good piece off, — as much as to
say, ' Don't touch our posy for your life !' Poor
Teague ! — poor Teague !
" An' then there was the Half-pay too. Far we
didn't go on our way until there was aloud shot, that
made the posy an' myself cry out an' jump a-one-
side. * 'Tis the Half-pay,' says Michael, lookin'
back at us. Michael had managed, as I found out
afterwards, to put up the Half-pay to the knowledge
that we were to go a-walking, an' of the way we
were to go. An' sure enough, the very next turn
we came to, there was the Half-pay. You'd think
there was a rod of iron down through his neck, an'
into his back-bone, he stood up so sthraight. An'
if you didn't know him, you'd suppose he was ready
to bite you, he looked so glum, an' stared so wicked.
While we passed him he took off his hat an' held it
up high, an' he stuck his stick out before him. Our
posy bowed her head to him very handsome to see,
an' says she, * Good day to you, Cumel.' An' the
Half-pay made answer in a way of his own :-** Maw
— ^maw — Ma— dame!' he says to her. Curious
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 135
enough it happened — six times at the least, before we
came to the end'; of our walk, the Half-pay met us,
every time we met him he was standing as stiff as
before, every time his hat off an* his stick out before
him, an' every time what he said was * Maw — ^maw
— ^Ma — dame !' With only one leg, as I may say,
to his body, he circumvented us some way, although
we had two good legs apiece undher us, an' Teague,
had four to hb own share. Wasn't it curious, Sir ?"
asked Mary, smiling her arch smile.
"Was the Colonel in love with your *posy,'
. ** Not very far from it, in my honest judgment.
Sir," answered Mary. " An' then, my dear," she
went on, " when we were coming back, who should
we see running to meet us but Masther Dick his
ownself. Did you ever see a young horse prancing
through a pasture, frolicking along with his head up,
and his mane straining, an' his eyes flaming an'
dancing in his head ? Well he put me in mind of
the young horse as he came towards us, an' 'twould
delight your very heart to see our posy springing
136 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
like a young deer to meet him. An* then they went
arm-in-arm together^ like a happy couple, as they
" What became of you then, Mary ?"
"Why, Sir, I fell into the rear rank, as the
sodgers say — alongside of my poor Michael an' his
" Much against your will, to be sure, Mary."
** No, indeed, honey — with a heart an' a half, to
tell you the honest thruth.
"Oh!" said Mary, "this was one day out of
many happy days, when sunshine was around us in
the darkest weather. 'Twas a sorrowful thing the
sunshine wasn't to last"
And Mary's smile was one of sad retrospection.
MICHAEL AND HIS FOSTER-BROTHER.
Michael Hanrahan's attachment to Richard
O'Meara was uncompromising, ardent, and unselfish.
Michael was not a servant, properly so called, and
yet, without making any terms, he had taken upon
him all the duties, and more than the duties, of a
servant ; no quid pro quo obligations on either side.
This to some may appear strange, and will
doubtless make Michael's pretension to worldly
wisdom problematical. I do not think Michael
could boast the possession of an overstock of ^^ la
sagiesse du monde " the day he ^^ kicked up his heels "
while attending his " posy," as described by Mary
in the last Chapter. Nor do I think that up to this
138 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
hour he can be said to carry a sufficient ballast of
good sense, taking the term ^^ good sense " as it is
commonly understood, — a due foresight of one's own
interests before the interests of any one else, and a
due preference of the same. For all that it is my
judgment that a counterpart of honest Michael would
be worth to any of my friends, good wages, good
board, good lodging, good clothing, kind treatment,
and full trust and esteem.
In his natural disposition he was affectionate and
cheerfiil; in presence of piper or fiddler he was
hilarious. From culture he was virtuous and es-
chewed evil, yet his ethics were shallow. His well
was not, so to speak, deep, and yet I assert that he
was nearer the truth than if a plummet were required
to sound it It is a question with me if the astute
philosopher who can measure the divine precept by
the law of nature, and who can hold a balance, as it
were, in which to weigh the questions of right or
wrong to a nicety, be as good a man. Michael
accepted the divine law without poising it on his
palm, satbfied with the impress of the coin.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 139
Pray excuse this dissertation on Michael Hanra-
haa When I meet such a one, I think the more of
our common humanity.
To say nothing, however, of Michael's inherent
propensity, there was other good reason why he
should exemplify his disposition in a particular way
towards Richard O'Meara. Was he not, as I have
said, Richard O'Meara's foster-brother ? — a tie of so
many strands in Ireland, that legal two-edged
swords, yclept Acts of Parliament, were found insuffi*
cient in the olden time to sever it Richard O'Meara
and Michael Hanrahan had grown up together, and
now, at the time I write of, Michael was installed
at the cottage, as a mere matter-of-course, acting
as major-domo, friend, and servant.
Michael Hanrahan it was who had superintended
the preparations for the reception of the bride.
Michael it was who had, with one exception, regu-
lated the household. Michael it was who bad en-
gaged Mary Malone as the special attendant of the
"Do you think, Mary," I inquired, "that he
140 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
was altogether disinterested in his selection of
" Disinterested ? I don't exactly know the mean-
ing of that word, Sir."
" Well, I mean that perhaps his choice was made
as much out of liking for yourself, as from his cer-
tainty of your fitness for the post."
"Ahl now I have you, Sir! — ^You think he
pitched on me because he'd rather see me every
day than be waiting for Sunday to come about?"
** My very meaning, Mary."
" An' upon my word an' credit, you were never
more right in your life, Sir. Ah ! I see you're a
man that has gumption, an' when you were young —
if it's not making over free to say so — ^you used to
coort a bit too, I'll be bound."
" Everybody * coorts a bit,' as you call it, Mary."
" An' some too much," said Mary, with her plea-
That Michael Hanrahan was filled with admira-
tion of his posy is certain — just such admiration, I
take it, as was expressed towards Marie Antoinette
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES, 141
of France by his countryman Burkei in the British
Parliament But exclusive of his devotion to her
beauty, and her gentle dependent nature, Michael's
attachment was even of a higher character. He
looked upon the young wife as the instrument^ to
use his own expression, ** in the hands of God," for
'the reclamation of the young man he loved, from
the destructive career he had led even up to the
period of his marriage.
^^He was rushing headlong to owld Nick, God
bless the hearers," was Michael's pithy conclusion
to a rather lengthy statement of Richard O'Meara's
^^ An' I was certain," he added, '^ as that I walked
above ground, he could never jSnd it in his heart to
give pain to the crature he loved so well. An'
sure the love of a king, with a crown on his head
an' a sceptre in his hand, wouldn't be one bit more
than was her due I"
'^ My heart used to bleed to see him," said Mi-
chael another time, ^^an' for all that, although he
disthressed me beyond measure, I couldn't quarrel
142 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
with him, an' I should stick to him somehow, what-
ever road he thravelled. I'll tell you one or two
things now that happened them times — that is, before
he was maJTied,"
I should perhaps remark here that occasionally
Michael was the narrator of events, but more gene-
rally Mary told me her story in the cliff " cobbey-
" One night," said Michael, " one night out of
the night afther night that he went on the batther,
the poor fool, the cock was crowing for the dawn
when he made his way home. To be sure he
remained in bed until far in the day, and people
were calling and calling about their law business,
and no sign of my gentleman in his office. I think
the less rubbing you have to an attorney the
less holes will be in your jacket. But above all, if
you h<we the misfortune to get into the clutches of
one of 'em, let an acre or two be between you and
a 'tumey that dhrinks or you'll have cause to repent
A hundhred chances to one but he'll put the wrong
end before, or tangle your skein in such a way that
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 148
a score judges with their wigs on couldn't unravel it,
and you'll be left in the lurch."
'* Indeed^ Michael, the wisest way is to keep wide
of the meshes of the law."
^* That's as thrue a saying as ever came from
Solomoa Well, to go on with my story. My
fosther-brother, Masther Dick the 'tumey, had his
net full of fools this time, and they were calling,
and calling, and calling. I think I towld as many
lies that morning, heaven forgive me, as if I was bred
up to be an attorney myself, — and 'tis their thrade,
you know. I was ready to cry down tears when I
listened to the people complaining, and abusing, and
scolding. 'Twould make a Turk sorrowful, to think
that the handsome tip-top young man — ay tip-top
in every way — should be ruining himself as he was.
In the height of my throuble a thought came into
my bead, I crept up the stairs very aisy, and I
opened my lad's door as quietly as if I was a first-
rate thief. 'Twas between one and two o'clock in
the day then, and he was sleeping as sound as if bis
eyelids were stitched together. I stole in on my
144 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
tippy-toes, I made one bould grab, and off I scudded
with every tack of the bed-clothes. I dropped
them on the lobby a good distance from the room-
door, and down stairs I scampered in hot haste to
get out of harm's way. Then I peeped up through
the bannisters to see what would come of it« As
sure as I'm telling it to you, out comes my gentle-
man blinking like an owl in the sunshine, and he
takes up the bed-clothes again and carries them
back with him, hugged tight in his arms, as if he
was mighty fond of 'em.
"Well, my dear, when I thought he was fast
again, I crept up stairs the second time. The
rogue didn't latch his door, thinking to entrap me
— 'twas only closed, and I pushed it little by little
until I got my head insida There he was, stretched
to his full length, and the clothes tucked round him
as snug as a thrush in his nest You'd swear he
was as hard asleep as before, but I seen the upper-
most eye give a couple of twinkles. ^Ha, ha!
that's a fox's sleep, my lad,' says I to myself, and
by the luck of the world I seen the nose of the
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 145
boot-jack just peeping out from the blankets, an'
then I seen the same boot-jack stealing up half an
inch at a time. Away with myself as fast as the
legs could carry me ; an' well for me I did, for the
head was only just at the wrong side of the door
when whack comes the boot-jack with the sound of
a cannon-ball, an' 'twas sent with a good aim to the
very spot where the head was only half a second of
time before. I don't think I'd be here to day clear-
ing this tumbler and telling my story if I wasn't so
^' Rather a serious retaliation that for well-meant
^' When he made his appearance down stairs
more than an hour afther, he said to me, in his
own pleasant, smiling way, *I didn't intend to
pelt at you, Michael, only to frighten the seven
senses out of you.' But I didn't give credit to him.
By my word 'tisn't all out safe to depend on a half-
tipsy man at any time ; he'd give a brain-blow,
maybe, an' call it a joke. But I couldn't fall out
with the poor fellow at all somehow.
VOL. I. L
146 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" But I gave him a bit of my mind that day ;"
— ^Michael laid down the tumbler he was rubbing at^
and he stood full in front of me. He stretched
out his right arm, and protruded his ri^t leg,
assuming an oratorical attitude; and there was
earnestness, I would even say impresaveness^ in
^ I says to him as this : * Masther Dick/ says I,
*I'm dead ashamed of you, and Fm grieved for
you — '
''*More fool you, my good Michael,' he made
answer. ' Kick the shame and the grief away from
you,' he said, * they're very grum comrades to
" * The road t/ou're thravelling/ I said, taking up
his word, * won't bring you to luck or grace, or earn
for you a good name.'
" * For the matter of that, Michael,' he said to
me, * the name I have is a very good one. Richard
O'Meara is my name ; I'm come of a good ould
stock, as you know, an' I don't desire a bettber
name than my own.'
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 147
" ' You'll disgrace it, Masther Dick/ was my an-
swer, * if you don't turn yourself to another coorse.
Mind ray warning, Masther Dick; if you follow
on ; — on, on, on you'll go, until you'll sink deep into
the black bog that you can't escape from if you
were to kick the legs from your body thrying to get
" * Michael Hanrahan,' he says, * I did not expect
you would condemn your fosther-brother to be smo-
thered in a bog-hole.'
" ' I would save you, Masther Dick, if I had the
power. You arc as well brought up a young man
as walks on Ireland's ground; you're fit to go
shouldher to shouldher with any lord if you'd mind
yourself. But 'tis " welcome thrumpery, for want of
company " with you. There's your business gone to
ould Nickr— '
"*No wondher, Mick. Thai same gentleman
always has a finger in the pie that's prepared in
an attorney's oflSce — '
" * The money would be as plenty with you as the
corn on the barn flure — '
148 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
** * Ay, when I had thrashed it out of my clients,*
the rogue said.
"* You don't want the sense,' I answered to him,
* but you smother it with the liquor, and won't give
it feir play. Masther Dick, Masther Dick, it's time
for you to look about you, I can tell you !'
" * I can do that at all events, Michael, whatever
comes of it.' And he turned his head round about, *
and round about, and looked in every direction.
' I can follow your advice in that, at all events,
Michael,' he said.
"That was the way with him ever, an' always
turning my words into a joke, an' still dhrinking,
dhrinking. Whatever I could say or do had no
" 111 tell you what happened another day," con-
tinued Michael, resuming the occupation he had for
a time laid aside.
" There was little money in the house, and where
could it come from when there was no earning? —
all going out, an' nothing coming in! * There's
no use in your expecting breakfast here,' I said to
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 149
Masther Dick, about three o'clock in the day, when
he walked down stairs to me. ^ No tay in the tay-
pot/ says I, * an nothing to buy it with, an' there's
no bread or anything.' I turned the taypot upside
down to prove to him 'twas empty. Matthers
weren't so bad all out, to be sure, but it came into
my mind 'twas a good way to tell him what I
thought of his doings. He put on as solemn a face
as if he was saying his prayers, though he was hum-
bugging all the while.
" * Here, Michael, my honest friend, take this,*
he says, an' he hands me a sixpence. ^ Lay it out
carefully,' he says; 'purchase one pennyworth of
buttermilk in the market, this we'll divide between
us, share an' share alike. Then provide two penny
buns, to munch with the buttermilk, an' you an* I
will breakfast gloriously. The change, threepence,
will provide for to-morrow.' He took me by the
arm, an' looked like a Solomon. 'The docthors
say, Michael,' he says, *that the tay is a wishy-
washy thing, an' buttermilk they praise to the skies
for being wholesome. By breakfasting on butter-
150 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
milk and penny buns, we'll cut our coats according
to our cloth, an' we'll be healthful into the bargain/
^ Another time I came to him, * Masther Dick,'
says I, ' look at the way I am/ An' I showed him
my coat all in babby-rags. * We'll soon be without
a stitch to cover us, an' afther a while we can't so
much as show ourselves at mass, without disgracing
ourselves. Body and soul we're doomed to suffer
by the way you're going on.'
" * Upon my honour,' he says, looking at me as if
he was sorry at the heart's core, * upon ray honour,
my poor honest Michael, you're like a plucked
goose, surely. But I'll soon provide for you, and
clothe you well. I'll make you turn out like a cock
afther moulting. Hould here,' he says, an' he
grips me by the collar before I could be on my
guard of him ; no more than the man in the moon
could I guess what he was about. I struggled hard
to get loose, but I might as well expect to get from
the jaws of a vice, he held me so tight. In no time
my tattered coat was flying about in bits an' scraps,
and while you could count six, his own long-tailed
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 151
coat was on my back, my arms adiing from the
mauling he gave mew
*' ^ Now Michael Hanrahan,' says he, ^ you're fit
to go to mass, an' to go a coorting afther mass is
over, if you're in the humour.' And be gave me a
slap between the shouldhers. I looked behind me,
an' there was the tail of the coat scraping the ground
a good distance in the rear of me. I felt the collar
touching my poll up near the top of my head, and
the ouffii were a mile cur so beyond the ends of my
fingers. If the world was lost at the moment I
couldn't help roaring out laughmg to see the show
he made of me. ^^What are you laughing at,
Michael ?' he says, * you're an out-an-out-dandy, I
can tell you — such a dandy as you wouldn't see in
the city of Dublin itself.' ' Faith 'tis you I believe,'
says I, an' I laughed the louder, an' poor Masther
Dick was obliged to laugh out too, although he did
his best to keep a serious face on himself. And we
both laughed together until our sides ached, to see
me marching along with the coat-tails scraping the
152 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
"This was the way with him," Michael sadly
remarked. " If I scowlded him, or if I thried to
undhermine him, 'twas all the same. He turned
everything into a joke ; there was never a cross
word from him, no matther whether L was cranky or
conthriving for bis good. But 'twas all the same, —
no cure, no stoppage of the dhrink.
^^ He took a start, as he sometimes did, and gave
over his ways, when he took up the cudgels for Miss
Ellen McMahon, wHo became his wife. I had my
thrust in God, that by her means he might be
turned from his sinfulness. Sorry, sorry am I to
say that I was disappointed."
THE KEG OF POTTEEN. — HOW NED CULKIN WAS MADE
As a general rule, the Half-pay, every night before
he could get into bed, went through a perplexing
contest with his composite leg. Occasionally he
happened to undo the fgistenings with comparative
fadlity; but when this occurred it was a lucky
chance, and was an exception to the rule. For the
most part he found the straps, and buckles, and
ligaments sadly out of place, intricate and complex
in their arrangements, and almost impossible to be
traced and loosened. My own opinion is, that the
degree of complexity, more or less puzzling as the
case might be, depended not a little on the extent of
potations indulged in previous to seeking his couch.
154 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
A statue of Bacchus with such a leg as that sup-
porting the Half-pay would be unclassical. But if I
suppose such a limb attached to the body of the god
of drunkenness, it would puzzle his divinity to un-
strap it, as often as it puzzled the Half-pay, and
from a like cause.
One night, or rather morning, for the dawn was
faintly tinting the sky from east to west, the Half-
pay was engaged in one of these struggles with his
leg. The buckles were not to be found where they
had been at his uprise ; some one must have med-
dled with the fastenings in the course of the day.
Who could have tampered with him ? Where could
the j»'actical jest have been executed ? Not on the
bridge ? — No. Not in the street ? — No. Could it
have been in the widow-woman^s back room, where
he had spent a jolly night? — He rather thought
not. But it might have been.
Puffing very hot breath from him, as a result of
his struggle, he paused to think over the affair.
Was that loud single knock he heard connected with
the prank played on him? — ^Another knock, — and
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 155
another, — with an interval between each knock, aa
if they were signal knocks. His head had been
drooping, and he raised it His eyes had been
closed, and he distended them. And he expanded
his ears to listen.
Knock — knock — ^knock — again. Where was the
knocking? — Who was the knocker? — These mys-
terious knocks were not given at his door. No.
Were they against Ned Calkin's door ? He thought
Knock — ^knock — ^knock — a third time, — ^three
knocks each time — yes, he had reckoned them.
Three times three, made six, — ^no, — nine. Ay, right,
— nine knocks. Was that a door pulled open ? — Not
his door, no, — Ned Culkin's door ; — almost sure of
it, — ^he ought to know the creak of Ned Culkin's door.
Ah ! — And what was that rolling along ? It sounds
like a big cannon-ball rolling over a wooden bridge.
Well! that is^ost singular, is it not? Where
is the woodi^ bridge ? There is no wooden bridge
in Ned Culkin's house — no— not one. And yet he
knows by the hollow sound, that the rolling of the
156 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
twenty-four-pound ball is across a wooden bridge.
He'd swear to that at all events. There again I —
It is Ned Culkin's door that has been banged to.
So far there is a certainty. But the wooden bridge,
and the twenty-four-pound ball — require explanation
— ^require to be thoroughly examined into. There
was a something in the business — some concealment
^-«)me ambiguity — some mystery between nine
knocks, Ned Culkin's door, the twenty-four-pound
ball, and the wooden bridge. That he was solemnly
bound before heaven and earth — Abound — to scruti-
nize to the bottom.
The Half-pay endeavoured to control the swaying
of his head, thereby to interrupt the singing in his
brain, that he might bring his steadiest faculties to
bear on this momentous matter. He would not
allow the question to remain in doubt. He would
issue forth. He would institute a rigid scrutiny,
and leave nothing doubtful as to knocks — knockee
— ^Ned Culkin's door — twenty-four-pound ball — or
He stood up for the purpose of carrying out the
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 157
indispensable duty imposed on him, when his leg,
most unaccountably, and of its own accord, separated
from him and tumbled about. Of course he fell
prostrate. It required considerable exertion and no
small degree of ingenuity to arise and maintain his
balance on the single member now remaining to him.
The task of refitting the refractory and treache-
rous limb that had so inopportunely deserted him^
he found to be a hopeless one ; so that after a few
unavailing attempts, he abandoned perforce his
laudable design of strict investigation, and tumbled
into bed- In a very short time the occurrences of
the day, together with the unexplained later events,
became a mass of confusion in his brain, chasing
each other in most perplexing complexity, and at
times mingling together in an indescribable hodge-
The Half-pay had rolled himself up in his bed-
covering about four o'clock of a spring morning. At
two in the afternoon of the same day he had taken
his usual stand on the bridge, with his back to the
parapet, bestowing his salutations to the passengers,
158 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
varied according to circumstances, as described in a
Through the centre window of the little house,
next door but one to that inhabited by the Half-pay,
Tom O'Loughlin "the decayed gentleman" thrust
his head. Tom could look out of the centre window
of his residence without delaying to raise the sasL
Originally this window had had twelve panes of
glass in it. From time to time, nine out of the
twelve had been broken away ; three, therefore, only
remained at the present writing. The three upper
panes these were, and they had escaped fracture, as
being most out of harm's way. So when Tom
O'Loughlin wished to enjoy the breeze, or to note
the occurrences without, his head was thrust as £Eur
as the shoulders through the centre opening of the
lowest tier but one, and generally both his arms
were protruded at the same time through the spaces
at either side, that his hands might meet and fondle
each other as was their wont, beneath his chin. It
will be understood from what is set down here that
if an unglazed window gives an appearance of dilapi-
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 159
datioQ to a house, and causes besides an excess of
ventilation at times, such a window is not neverthe-
less without its recommendation.
As the Half-pay stood on the bridge, the decayed
gentleman looked from his pillory, and observing his
friend where he expected to find him, he issued forth
to join him.
''A good morrow and the best of luck to you,
Colonel," said the decayed gentleman.
" Maw, maw," returned the Half-pay.
" You're looking grand out-an'-out to-day. Colo-
nel, and more of that to you I say," flattered Tom
**Right— Weill— "
'^ Sure I knew you were by looking at you, and
right glad am I to see it. Believe my word for it, I
am. Well — well — well. Hadn't we a great night
out-an'-out last night?"
"Jolly— jovial 1—"
" Dick O'Meara is a grand fellow, entirely, en-
irely, merry, and hearty, and good-natured. A
prince of a fellow, by gog."
** Fine— fellow !— "
160 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
" Ay, every inch a good fellow ; — the heart in
the right spot, Colonel, — and able to take his
nourishment, Colonel, I can tell you. When he
used to come among us, he never earned a curse for
leaving his liquor behind him — never !"
" Sound — stomach ? "
"Sound as a trout. He was worth his weight
in gold at our meetings round the festive board,
until he was unfortunate enough to get married,
the poor fool. His wife was making a stay-
at-home-John of him. The Lord knows my heart
bled for him ; — I pitied him ; indeed, indeed I
And the decayed gentleman assumed a most
lachrymose expression of face, and his tone was sad,
** Well — to be sure he picked out a beautiful
young wife — "
" Lovely — creature !" and the Half-pay solemnly
raised his beaver, and put it on again.
** But, my poor, honest, hearty Dick O'Meara — I
compassionate you for all that. Your handsome
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 161
wife was making a sheelah of you ! But he'll come
on again, Colonel, please goodness. He'll snap the
apron-string, and be king of the Gregory once
more I He didn't go far last night, to be sure, and
made off before we began to spend the evening.
But 'tis a good sign to see him leave the petticoat
government at all."
♦a— like— him ! "
'* He is to be liked, by gog, and the more you
meet him, the more ffra you'll have for him.
Colonel, — 'twill be a little paradise within at Ned
Culkin's for a good month or more."
"Ah, ha! — Did you hear nothing last night
before you lay down? — anything in this way?-^"
The decayed gentleman gave three knocks with
his knuckles against the Half-pay's chest.
" Yes — yes !" — snapped the Half-pay eagerly ;
and he, in turn, gave three separate punches down-
wards — with his composite leg.
"And something rolling along with a hollow
VOL. I. M
162 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" Nine knocks in all ?"
" Well ! Darby Kenealy give nine knocks at Ned
Culkin's door to warn him that he was there — with
a keg of his primest potteen I"
" And when the door was opened, in rolled the
keg along Ned Culkin's hall — ^all along to the back
door it went — rolling."
" And then you may be sure Ned Culkin went to
roost crowing like a game-cock."
**You know, Colonel, that an * officer of the
excise,' or a ganger, like Ned Culkin — ^the one
means the other — ^is made near-sighted, like the
best of us, by drinking potteen-punch, and could not
see the still it came from if he had Lord Rosse's
"I see. 1— seel"
"And so Darby Kenealy gave nine knocks at
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 163
Ned Culkin's door, and in rolled the keg of potteen
when the door was opened. Ned Culkin stood well
behind the door, and he didn't see Darby Kenealy
at all, nor did Darby Kenealy see Ned Culkia
But for all that Darby knew right well that he'd
make the ganger purblind. And purblind he will be,
and purblind you and I will be to keep him com-
pany, as long as the keg of potteen has a thuoh in it."
" Isn't that good news, Colonel ? We'll have our
skinful while it lasts. Night or day we won't be
sober, please goodness 1 and we'll drink Darby
Kenealy's health, and that he may live long, many
and many a time — so we will !"
" Here's Ned Culkin himself coming down to us,
and I'U bet ten to one — will you take me up,
"That we'll begin the boozing-match this very
With a tottering step Ned Culkin joined the
164 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
other two. He did not totter like a drunkard, but
like one aflFected with paralysis.
"Raw, could day," he said, although. the sun was
shining blandly, and there was little breeze to
temper the ardour of his ray&
"Indeed and upon my word 'tis very sharp
weather," assented the decayed gentleman, his
thoughts fixed on the expected invitation to his
*' little paradise." " Very sharp, cold weather it is,
"Hot— hot!" dissented the Half-pay.
" I am shivering, every limb of me," said Ned
Culkin, " and I'm could, down to the nails of my
toes. Ufie — ^ufie! There's like an ague on me.
"We'll go down to Joe Darmod/s and have a
glass of brandy to warm us. Will you come^
Curnel ? Will you come, Tom ?"
" Come I" answered the Half-pay.
"With a heart and a half," gleefully assented
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 165
" Before we go, Curnel," said Ned Culkin, " I
want to tell you there will be a few friends with me
in my poor cabin to-night. You'll be with me,
Tom, won't you?"
" ril have the honour and the pleasure,** replied
" And you'll make one among us, Cumel ? I
have some good stuff. You wouldn't find a head-
ache in a hogshead of it You'll come, Cumel ?"
" We'll be pleasant as pleasant can be, Curnel,
And now we're off to Joe Darmody's.'*
The three worthies set out together. Ned Culkin
was obliged to cling to the Half-pay for support ;
Tom O'Loughlin cringed and sidled beside them.
There was a kind of wooden screen at the end of
Joe Darmody's counter ; behind this Ned Culkin
led the way. The brandy bottle was brought down
to the three friends. Ned Culkin swallowed glass
after glass until his " shivering of could " not only
left him, but he became brisk, pert, and nimble.
Tom O'Loughlin waxed more oleaginous of deport-
166 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
ment every moment. And the Half-pay stared the
more intently at every one until the bottle was
Ned Culkin never paid for the brandy at Joe
Darmody's. Why he did not, Joe Darmody and
he knew best.
"LOVE IN A COTTAGE."
For a year and eleven months — Michael Hanrahan
was very precise as to the lapse of time, sore cause
had he to remember that same — for a year and
eleven months after the arrival of " the posy " at
the Cottage near the Cascades, Michael Hanrahan
was, to use his own words, ^' as happy a boy as
walked undher the canopy of the sky/'
And why should he not be happy ? The elements
of happiness were within him. To begin with his
own immediate concerns ; making all due allowance
for the aberrations flesh is heir to, his life was a
blameless life. His consdence might be said to
hold almost a sinecure office. I might suppose that
168 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
his conscience smiled rather than frowned when
Michael went astray in his prayers at night, and
with a denunciation of himself, said : ^' Bad manners
to you, where are you galloping?" and paused, send
began again. But there were no grounds of serious
accusation after the day, so that Michael and his
conscience were cordial bed-fellows; and Michael's
monitor rather smoothed his pillow than otherwise.
Then, as to his mundane afiairs. Was there not
the blooming, wavy-haired Mary, with her ever-
lasting smile, to meet him everywhere about the
house, out in the fields, and on the mossy rock near
the cascades ? Mary, pure of heart — and warm of
heart too — ^made no concealment of her love for
Michael Hanrahan. And if Michael Hanrahan did
not love his Mary, — " nau locklish /" as we say in
"When you're in your coorting days," said
Michael, "you're like a bird in the spring o' the
year ; your heart is as light as a feather, and you're
ready to fly if you only had wings."
Furthermore, Mary and Michael were gathering
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 169
feathers to feather their nest. Mary was saving
her wages, and Michael was adding to the store,
and Mary was cash-keeper to the firm. So that,
if we go no farther than his personal concerns
lead us, why should not Michael Hanrahan be " as
happy a boy as walked undher the canopy of
the sky r
The least selfish of mortals, however, was Michael
Hanrahan. But, to say nothing at all of the good
terms between his conscience and himself, or of
Mary's smile, and Mary's love, was not everything
going on in the cottage, like as if ^^ twas in Paradise
they were living ?"
There was Richard O'Meara, attending to his
business every day fi-om breakfast to dinner, as
steady as a rock.
At this point Michael put on a face half grave,
" Between you and I," he said, " 'tumey's work
isn't the luckiest. When they set two people slap-
ping at each other on what they call 'the green
cloth,' but which is a dirty deal table, without a
170 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
scrap of cloth on it of any colour, they put me in
mind of the 'handlers' of cocks in a cockpit
'Tisn't out of liking for the foolish, quarrelsome
birds that they spur tHem, and cut their combs and
gills, and clip their feathers, and make 'em fly at
each other. And whatever way the battle goes, both
of the cocks get clipped when 'tis over. Not to run
away with the story, howsomever, Masther Dick
wasn't a downright hawk of an attorney, like some
that pluck the feathers out of every bird they catch
or lay fingers on. He knew there couldn't be two
heads or two harps on a halfpenny, and he didn't
tell people they were right when he knew they were
And notwithstanding the " 'tumey's work,"
matters went on swimmingly at the cottage. "Just
as well as if Masther Dick was saying the litanies
all day long in the oiBSce, by no manner of means
likely to be."
The joint description by Michael and by Mary of
this period of Richard O'Meara's wedded life was
specially minute. Both of them dwelt on the occur-
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 171
rences of those halcyon days with a liking for the
Almost invariably, Richard O'Meara was sum-
moned to his dinner by "the posy" in person.
She taps ever so gently against the glass of the
oJBSce window, and with "a beck, and nod, and
wreathed smile," invites him to join her. Whatever
he is engaged on, is at once thrown aside, and
almost instantly all trace of business gravity is left
behind at the office desk, the arm of the invited is
round his wife's waist, and they proceed together to
the front of the cottage. On their way there is
much chattering, and the voices are mirthful in their
Nothing at all has happened to baby. Never — no;
never — ^never was young mother blessed with such a
darling, sweet, good-tempered little baby. And he
is growing handsomer every hour ; he will be just
such a fine fellow as his father, if God spares him
to them. And, oh I may He in his love and mercy
guard it I
Oh, yes! the Colonel has been in to pay his
172 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
daily visit. Yes, and he said, " Maw — maw, — Ma —
dame!" when he came, and "Maw — maw, Ma —
dame !" again at his departure. Not one other word
did he utter, though he remained half an hour ; and
he never removed his eyes from the baby but once
while he remained ! It was very plain he was fond
of it, — but who could see the darling, lovely little
fellow without loving him ?
And when Mary, and baby, and baby's mother
had gone out for their walk, they had had their
wonted three or four more salutations from the dear
old Colonel, as usual, at different points on their
route. And, oh! never did anything agree with
baby like the fresh air from the water. It was a
Teal pleasure to look at his lovely little face coming
back, rosy as a peach-apple, and fresh as a rosebud !
And, arrived at the cottage-door, the two go up-
stairs to take a peep at the same all-important little
being in his crib. With cautious, noiseless tread
they approached the little sleeper. He is always
comfortably asleep at this hour ; and Mary stitching
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 173
away very industriously while sitting by his cot,
and of course smiling as usual, although no one
is there to smile at The big, stalwart man
must kneel down, or he cannot reach the baby's face
with his lips. The mother leans over his shoulder
as he stoops, and she whispers softly in his ear,
and he looks up at her, and returns her smile, and
nods his head in approval of what she has siud.
Arm-in-arm they descend to the dining-room.
Michael is at the door, bowing and waving his nap-
kin to them in token of welcome. Nimbly and
oflSciously Michael places the ^'posy's" chair, and
Richard O'Meara and his young wife smilingly seat
themselves ; and gaily and pleasantly the meal pro-
ceeds, Ellen laughing cheerily at her husband's
sallies. Michael, looking from one to the other
with the fulness of his heart in his eyes, now
and again puts in his word. Most often he says
affectedly foolish things, for the purpose of ex-
citing risibility at his own expense ; and his
foster-brother and foster-sister-in-law (if such a
relationship can be admitted) enjoy his harmless
174 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
knavery, the drift of which is evident enough to
both of them.
The table is cleared ; the decanters and fruit
are placed upon it; Richard O'Meara moves his
chair round to his wife's side, and they clink
glasses gaily to drink the health of the young,
Richard. And Michael Hanrahan, according to
usage duly established, holds out his glass to
have it filled, — and filled it is to overflowing;
and Michael throws back his head, looking directly
upward, and presents the bottom of his glass to
the ceiling, leaving no sign of heeltap as he pledges
Lo and behold ! — the door opens, and in comes
Mary dandling young Richard O'Meara. A brisk,
bright little fellow he is. Richard O'Meara the
younger is eight months old or so. A fine child of
his age he is. He sits up very stout in his nurBe's
arms. Michael walks backwards and chirps for him
and for Mary ; — the chirp is intended for both. One
look at Michael's capacious mouth, now puckered
up most curiously, suffices for the younker. Richard
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 175
the younger is otherwise attrax^ted by his mother's
gentle call. His eye, directed by the sound, recog-
nizes the features that even a baby so soon learns to
distinguish. With outstretched arms he utters forth-
with his baby supplication ; with outstretched arms
his mother receives him, and baby Richard rests
supremely happy in his mother's tender embrace.
The little note of pleasure uttered by that tiny atom
of humanity is heard by the mother's heart, and
a tear, not of sorrow, but of ineffable love, falls on
the blooming face over which she bends so fondly.
Stretched at full length on his mother's lap, gazing
up at her he is, when Richard the elder comes to
look down on him. Richard the younger, although
he knows as much as any child of his age that was
ever born, has not yet learnt the unit table. Yet,
without being able to reckon one, two, he perceives
that a second face has been placed close to that of
his mother, and if he is not much mistaken
he has seen that second face before. Yes, yes, he
remembers it ! and he crows his pleasure at the
176 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
"Take your boy, Richard," Ellen says.
" Put the rascal here, Ellen," answers Richard,
stretching out his brawny arms to receive his off-
spring. So on the arms of the father the crowing
boy is laid. Richard the younger b highly gratified
at his new position. The see-saw motion comes
up to his idea of luxury, as Richard the elder
paces up and down with him, moving his burthen
to and fro, humming softly for his special delec-
tation ; and the laughing boy crows up his answer
It is a picture to see the young wife, with both
her hands clasped together as if in prayer, — and who
knows but that it is in prayer ? — and her rounded
chin resting on those clasped hands, as she follows
with her eyes of love the motions of the two beings
she so doats upon.
After a little, Richard O'Meara and his wife, and
Mary carrying baby, and Teague, — ^Michael stays
at home to prepare tea, — set out for a ramble. Tea
over, some time later, Richard O'Meara sips his
glass of whisky-toddy ; and shortiy after, the whole
TUB TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 177
household is at rest, except Tea^e, who by night
is the vigilant warder of the cottage and its in-
"As happy as if 'twas in paradise they were
liying," quoth honest Michael.
Michael's gathering griefs.
Michael Hanrahan was, as I have stated, very
certain that up to, and including the term of one
year and eleven months after the marriage of his
foster-brother, matters went on at the cottage pretty
much as particularized in the last Chapter. That
period had scarcely gone by, however, when symp-
toms of a change were noticed by the anxious and
watchful Michael ; premonitions that caused him to
apprehend the return of Richard O'Meara to his
former baneful habits: and Michael's heart was
sore and heavy with forebodings of evil.
In the fourteenth month after his birth, it came
to pass that Richard O'Meara the younger was
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADEa 179
affected with some infantine ailment. His mother
could not be convinced but that, if she ceased to
watch him by day and by night, his loss would be
the consequence; and during this period her hus-
band, left alone after dinner, sauntered now and
again into " The Town of the Cascades," and my
friend Michael noticed with dire alarm, that on re-
turning from these visits he used to come home, to
use Michael's own phrase " a little riz " (an abbrevi-
ation of risen or raised, and meaning "elevated,"
or " tipsy").
The interview on the bridge between " the de-
cayed gentleman " and the Half-pay, noticed in a
former Chapter, will here be recalled. It will be
remembered, too, that on this occasion, when Tom
O'Loughlin had enlightened the Half-pay as to the
mystery of the signal knocks and the rolling of the
twenty-four-pound ball over the wooden bridge, he
spoke in highly eulogistic terms of Richard O'Meara's
boon companionship, and expressed his friendly and
disinterested gratification to find that the object of
this panegyric showed laudable symptoms of eman-
180 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
cipating himself from the thraldom to which he had
for a time so lamentably subserved.
It was in company with Tom O'Loughlin and the
Half-pay, and Ned Culkin and some others, that
Richard O'Meara had become ** a little riz " on the
occasions so sorrowfully noticed by Michael Han-
Richard O'Meara the younger recovered in time
from his attack of — whatever it may have been;
— and it was the opinion of the household that he
must have been laid up with the malady to which
the youthful only are subject, and known only as
"growing pains," so marvellously had the boy's
stature increased during his illness. It would appear
also, that while he lay coniSned to his cot, his frame
had become, as it were, solidiiSed, and thereby more
capable of retaining the impressions made upon it
For he had become wonderfully acute in his percep-
tions, and active with his reasoning powers. He
could reckon heads, and divide the aggregate into
units, and separately recognize each unit. He could
distinguish Michael Hanrahan's face, from Teague's
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 181
face ; and to all appearance he considered the come-
liness on the dog's side, when exercising his new
faculty of comparison, for he smiled at Teague more
rapturously than at Michael. He knew perfectly
— but this was no new knowledge — that his
father was not his mother; and as for Mary,
his nurse, he would indeed have belied the high
estimate in which he was held, could he for an
instant fail as to the individuality of her never-
In the evenings, after dinner, Richard O'Meara
the elder again became the playfellow and nurse of
this marvellous child. In a round, mellow voice he
often sang for him, while tossing him upwards —
" Look at the baby on the wall ;
Look at the baby dancing !
Look at the baby, one and all ;
Look at the baby prancing !"
Michael Hanrahan danced to this ditty, nearly
shaking his head oflf as he bounced about, snapping
his forefinger and thumbs together. And Mary
waved her hands and smiled at the delighted aero-
182 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
naut ; while Ellen, the mother, in her own quiet way,
looked on delighted.
But although Michael Hanrahan joined in the
evening festivities at the cottage, he was oppressed
by sad misgivings. He did not fail to mark that
Richard O'Meara drank deeper than he had done
since his marriage. That the reformation which by
the direct agency of ** the posy " he had reckoned
on, was becoming doubtful. And Michael noted
with sorrow that Richard O'Meara's visits to the
town on business, were more frequent than need be ;
that the latest visit was the longest, and that the
longer the visit, the more " riz " was he when he
Michael Hanrahan, for good reasons of his own,
had no relish for the great exuberancy of spirits his
foster-brother brought back with him after these, his
business visits. The jollity of manner was too ex-
travagant to please Michael ; the laughter was too
loud, and too often unmeaning in its purpose.
Swagger, jollity, pointless boisterous laughter, all
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 183
were evidences to Michael that his foster-brother
had come home " riz."
Michael Hanrahan had such thorough reliance on
the affection and fidelity of Mary that, as he declared
to me, **he didn't care to the value of an ould
cronny-bean halfpenny if an out-an'-out dandy came
from Dublin-town to make sheep's eyes at her."
And furthermore, he declared "that," — figura-
tively personifying himself as a cock — " 'twouldn't
ruffle a feather of my top-knot if the smoothest of
them peelers that have nothing to do but to beguile
the counthry-girls " laid his snares for her.
No, it was not at the prompting of the " green-
eyed monster," jealousy, that Michael felt sickly at
heart when his foster-brother chucked Mary under
the chin and called her " a plump pullet" No, but
Michael understood by the rakish, rollicking man-
ner in which the chucking was performed that his
foster-brother was impelled to such freedom in con-
sequence of being " riz."
And when Richard O'Meara came home *' riz,"
184 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
Michael was far from approving of his altered man-
ner to " the posy." There was more of ardour,
less of delicacy in it. Humble and untutored as
Michael was, he possessed a natural refinement of
feeling which enabled him to perceive the difference
of accost to " the posy " by the same man when sober
and when '' riz." And perhaps of all the symptoms
of returning bad habit, the last mentioned aroused
Michael's greatest apprehension, and gave him
** She'd often hang her head and look down," said
Michael, " like the primrose the sun would shine too
There was, and mayhap there still is, within view
and sound of the river cascades, a moss-covered
rock with an ancient hawthorn rising canopy-like
above it. I will name this the trysting-rock of my
Whenever Mary wished to hold conference with
Michael, and that Michael was not within doors, —
or viee vers&y to this mossy rock near the cascades,
either went to seek the other, and seldom or never
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 185
was the seeker disappointed by finding the trysting-
Of a certain evening, Michael, anxious to confide
to Mary's sympathizing bosom his fears and his
anxieties, and to consult her on a sagacious plan he
had devised, went forth, and, as he had expected, he
As he came within view of the trysting-rock and
of Mary, Michael paused a moment to enjoy the
pastime that was going on.
Richard O'Meara, junior, was by this time not
altogether dependent on others for locomotion, and
Mary was engaged, snatching up her charge, racing
with him to some distance from the rock, placing
him on his feet, scampering back and reseating her-
self, and then with outspread hands and voice
enticing the young pedestrian to her. Michael
Hanrahan forgot his griefs for the moment as ne
heard the child's shout of rapture, and observed with
what desperate resolution of purpose the delighted
pupil dashed towards his preceptress, and flung him-
self into her arms.
186 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. "^
"Again to it, Mary," shouted Michael. And
again the boy was placed at a further distance firom
the rock, and again the race to Mary was achieved
gloriously. And again, and again, and again, and
again, and again, before Michael caught him up and
kissed him. Then placing the beautiful boy on
Mary's knee Michael sat beside her. Richard
O'Meara, junior, was a safe confidant at nearly
every meeting between Mary and Michael, for
although he could lisp a few words, his vocabulary
was not suflSciently extensive to enable him to tell
'*Mary," said Michael, "I'm come to tell you
my griefs. Oh, Mary! Mary! — 'tis going back
again to his bad life, he is."
" Ah ! Michael — 'twould be the sore pity. I have
my hopes, Michael, and my trust in heaven, that
he'll think of himself an' stop short."
" I'd give up anything in the world, barring your
own self, Mary, that your eyes could see clearer
than mine. But I have a knowledge of him since
we were boys together. 'Twas never half-an'-half
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 187
with Dick O'Meara. Twas neck-or-nothing with
him ever and always, and he won't stop."
" More's the pity, Michael, more is the pity. But
don't give up, he'll mend—he'll mend yet, with
" If 'twas only myself that was to rue it, Mary,
— though I can't help having the love at my heart
for him, — it wouldn't be of so much matter.
But our beautiful posy, Mary ; — if through his
wickedness that creature's heart is saddened — and
though she doesn't complain, she isn't the pleasant
bird she was, I can tell you — "
" She is not, indeed, Michael ; thrue for you — !"
" If through his wickedness then he brings grief
upon our posy, — he'll suffer for it. And — and —
that he may — I"
"Michael I You wouldn't offer up that prayer?"
"No, no; I believe not. But if he hurts our
posy, he'll suffer for it without my prayer. Be you
sure of that."
" The Lord guide an' purtect us, and turn him
back into the right road I"
188 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES,
" Amen to that, Mary. Amen !"
« Well, Mary."
" Couldn't anything be done to cure him ?*'
" You remind me of it, Mary. I have a plan in
my own head, and I want to take counsel with
" What is your plan, Michael ?"
"One plan I'll work out first. Ill do my
endeavours to stop his dhrinking at home at any
" How will you bring that about ?"
" I'll tell you. I'll keep the liquor from him !"
" If you could do that, Michael, 'twould be the
** You'll see that I will. And this very night I'll
begin. He's gone into the town, but he'll get no
liquor when he comes back. Mary — "
** Well, Michael?"
" Tis the Devil that brews the dhrink. An' if
he doesn't do it with his own two claws, he's stand-
ing by present when it's made."
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 189
"Indeed 'tis likely."
** 'Tis the down thruth, Mary. May my bitther
curse light upon it for the liquor 1"
Strengthened by Mary's hearty approval of his
plans for restricting Richard O'Meara in the home-
allowance of liquor, Michael arranged, with her
assistance, the details of his operations, and then the
two went home together.
But honest Michael's devices were seldom suc-
cessful in their issue, and although Mary regarded
him as a Solomon, and endorsed his sagacious con-
trivances, it will be seen that in more instances than
the present their consultations and joint arrange-
ments tended to little good.
HOW Michael's plan succeeded.
Up to the period at which this Chapter opens,
Richard O'Meara had always returned early from
his evening visits to " The Town of the Cascades."
On the occasion now to be noticed, two hours of
the night had passed ere he opened the wicket
leading into his flower-garden.. He was heard, in
his approach to the cottage, singing at the top of
his voice, and this until he reached its very door.
There, under the projecting porch, stood his wife,
with her gentle greeting, —
"Welcome home to me, Richard."
His reply was cordial, but it was boisterous and
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 191
" Ellen, my queen of roses, is that you ? If
I am not proud to meet you, Ellen, my beauty,
may I be a bornoch! If I*m not proud to see
you, may Richard O'Meara be a bornoch! Ha,
And his laugh at the excellence of his conceit
was as loud as the roar of the cascades.
** Only think now, of Richard. 0*Meara — that —
stands two feet six — in his leather — changed into
a bornoch I — living under — a shell — not one inch
across I— sticking fast — to the rocks — down in —
the bay! — Well! — upon my soul — 'tis sublime to
imagine it— isn't it, Ellen ?"
Richard O'Meara's stentorian laughter had seve-
ral times interrupted his words, and now he bent
backwards to give full vent to his uproarious mirth.
" Isn't it sublime, Ellen?"
" It would be a great change indeed, Richard."
** But you don't seem to enjoy it, Ellen ?"
" Indeed I do, Richard dear," and she essayed to
mingle her little silvery tinkle with her husband's
192 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" Upon my soul it would be a change, as you call
it ; no doubt about it."
Here his face and his voice became serious.
" There would be an advantage, however. Those
damned rascals with their parchments and their
diablerie, couldn't get at me. Ha, ha, ha! I'd
defy them to creep under my shell. They couldn't,
they couldn't, — and, deuce mend them, the liti-
gious scoundrels that keep a pleasant fellow with
his nose rubbing against his desk all day — till it
gets sharp and vixenish."
Again his loud merriment gave place to gravity.
" In the domestic privacy of a bomoch," he said,
" there is an advantage, surely. And I suppose he
has plenty of time, and some to spare for cogitation
and calculation. Ay, that may be, — ^he is a her-
mit, — a bomoch is. And he leads a virtuous,
abstemious, and inoffensive life. He does, no
doubt. — But," and his ringing laughter returned,
while he shook his wife's hands so violently that she
winced, — " but for all that — devil's in me if Richard
O'Meara would change with him. He hasn't a wife
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 193
Kke mine — nor a wife at all — ^the stupid wretch ! —
There wouldn't be room for a wife in the bomoch's
shell. And, furthermore, Richard O'Meara wouldn't
— exchange — his beef, — ^and his mutton, — and his
ham and turkey, — and his potteen-punch, — for the
philosophic bomoch's breakfast, — lunch, — dinner, —
supper, — and lush, — of salt water — salt water, —
from one end of the year to the other. No — no ! —
the life of a bornoch is not like my life, Ellen, my
" Dear Richard, will you not come in ?"
"Come in? To be sure I will. 'Tisnt a
bomoch's roof that's over us, Ellen, — no, — ^no !"
And, snatching his wife up in his arms, he raced
in with her, shoved the parlour door open with his
shoulder, placed her sitting on the sofa, retreated a
few steps, and stood looking on her admiringly,
while his laughter filled the room.
The door opened, and Mary Malone entered,
bearing the child in her arms. Richard the younger
was in his night-dress ; he had been roused from his
sleep by his father's boisterousness, and, notwith-
VOL. I. o
194 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
standing Mary's dissuasion, conveyed distinctly in
his own baby-language, he would partake of the
merriment he understood to be going on.
Richard O'Meara turned, and snatched lus son
from the nurse's arms.
" Mary," he said, " you're as blooming as ever,
and as smiling as ever," and he pinched Mary's
fresh cheek. Michael was looking cm, and, in the
sense before explained, he felt the pinch upon Mary's
cheek like a heavy blow inflicted on himself.
" Where is my foster-brother Michael ?"
The questioner followed Mary's eye.
"Ay, ay; I see the rogue. Take off that
glum phiz, my honest fellow, and look as a chap
in his courting days ought to look. Mary,
you and Michael here shall be flesh of one flesh
before this day month, whether you consent or
" What are we to make of this rascal — this boy
of ours I"
" I leave that entirely to you, Richard."
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 195
"Well — ^let me see. 'Tis a serious considera-
tion, Ellen. Look at me, Dick, straight in the
face, like a man. Ay, that will do. An attorney
you shan't be ; they're half shark, half mole, every
man of them, — ^your father included. You look too
jovial to be made a judge of, Dick, you do. I don't
think you're sanctimonious, no more than your
father, so you are unfit to be a bishop. You'll be a
stout fellow, Dick, six feet two, like your sire;
there's fire in your eye, my boy, so I think — we'll
make a general of you. You hear that, Ellen?
Yes, a general, nothing else. Come, General,
mount your charger !"
He raised the little fellow so incautiously that
Ellen, pale and trembling, found it difficult to sup-
press a scream. Mary's arms were involuntarily
stretched out to reclaim him, and Michael wrung
his hands. But the General himself felt no alarm.
His legs were placed over the shoulders of the
charger, who grasped them in front, and the bold
equestrian steadied his seat by clutching in both
hands his father's clustering hair.
196 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" Right, — right, General ! Hold on to the mane
stoutly — we are about to charge at the head of the
cavalry. Out of the way, there, or we'll ride you
down and sabre you 1 Charge !"
Away went the charger, at full gallop, round and
round the room, the General shouting on his shoul-
ders. And round and round they went, until the
heads of the anxious lookers-on were dizzy. Then
came a sudden pause.
" Your charger requires to be watered, General,
or he'll never be able to break through the enemy's
He turned to the sideboard.
" Hallo ! Commissary Michael !" he cried,
" what has become of the decanters ? Bring in the
decanters, like a gay, honest fellow."
And he sang, —
" Fill the bumper Mr ;
Every drop we sprinkle
O'er the brow of care,
Smooths away a wrinkle."
" Come, Michael, * fill the bumper fair * for the
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 197
Generars charger. The water is here— off with you
for the other ingredient 1"
Michael came shuffling forward, endeavouring to
put on the sheepish look he could assume on occa-
sion. But there was a nervous quivering about his
lips, and an anxiety mingled with alarm in his eye,
that both operated to spoil the signification of
vacant simplicity it was his wish to index. Michael
was now about to try the well-meant experiment
agreed on between himself and Mary, the plan so
excellently devised, and so sure to be efTective. But
the excited state in which he saw his foster-brother,
raised his apprehension that the essay would not be
altogether so practicable as he had decided it to be.
He feared he was now venturing on very dangerous
gi^ound. Yet his purpose was laudable, and he
would proceed. Very skilfully, as he supposed,
did he begin his manoeuvres.
" Sure, Masther Dick, the General, as you chris-
tened him, God bless himl is dhragging at your
poor head enough to tire you out. And, General,
Tm thinkuig you ought to dismount from your
198 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
grand charger, and shut your peepers. It's time
we were all mounting, and getting into our beds,
snug and cosy. The misthress, the crature, is lost
with the sleep, I know."
Michael bobbed his head, and winked both his
eyes at the mistress, to intimate that she ought to
confirm his assertion. £ut she was silent.
^^ Afther your dancing and galloping undher the
General, Masther Dick," he went on, " you must be
mortial tired, and you must want to stretch your
bones sadly. And so, in heaven's name — '*
*'Ay, and so in heaven's name, as you say,
Michael, I must have my lush before I ga I am
as thirsty as — "
" A lime-burner, — he 1 he ! he !" put in Michael.
** The aggregate thirst of forty lime-burners, and
forty smiths, and forty glass-blowers, would not
reach the thirst of the single individual that is
panting for his lush. Q£F with you, man, if you
don't want to see me shrivel up before your eyes,
like scorched parchment."
Michael, giggling as he went, raced out. In a
;^THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 199
very short time he returned, holding a decanter by
the neck, between the first and second finger of his
right hand. This he deposited on the sideboard. It
would have been diflScult for you, even had you
been present, to understand the half-terrified, half-
simulated simplicity of his more than usually pallid
face, as he awaited the result of his proceeding.
" Come, General," said Richard O'Meara gaily,
" when we have had our drink, we'll dash through
the bayonets of the enemy and gain the day. Hold
on hard by the mane, General, while I mix my jorum.
The veriest coward is a hero. General, with good
liquor under his sword-belt, as we'll prove to the
enemy. Eh?— what's this?"
While speaking in this gleeish strain, Richard
O'Meara had been engaged pouring water into
his glass, and then having leant the decanter to
pour in the whiskey — lo ! no whisky came forth.
Richard, as yet unsuspicious of Michael's drift,
handed him back the decanter, with —
" You've made a grand mistake here, my honest
fellow. Take this back to the cellar, and insert
200 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
into the orifice of the soulless vessel the nose of the
cock of Darby Kenealy's keg of potteen, and let the
sparkling beverage flow in until it gurgles small
when reaching the neck. Your mistake has been
a d — d annoyance, I can tell you. Besides the
blank disappointment, just as the cup was about
being carried to the lip, you give the enemy time to
rally, and so may cause the General to lose his
battle. Be off and bring the decanter brimful.^'
"Well, Master Michael?"
" We're like the strand of the bay when the tide
" How like the strand of the bay when the tide
" We're run drhy like the strand, — ^he 1 he ! he !"
" What do you mean by that ?"
" Our potteen — ^he ! he ! he ! is run out, and so
we have the drhy strand, — he ! he I he ! There isn't
as much in the house as would fill a two-year-old
child's thimble— he !— he !— h-e-e !"
The last attempt at a giggle was a failure as
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 201
expressive of mirth. The he — he — ^h-e-e ! was
plaintive and quavering, and from poor Michael's
perturbed lips sounded more like a wail than a
laugh. And little wonder; for Michael saw that
his foster-brother's brows were knit close together,
and that the eyes flashing from beneath their lower-
ing clouds flashed no sunlight, but the intense glare
that foreboded* a storm. He had seen the same
murky light in those eyes before.
"Hah— hah— hah!"
And to Michael's ears his foster-brother's scoff-
ing laughter was terrible.
•* Come, sir !" he cried suddenly, in a loud, angry
voice, and he made a stride towards Michael. The
movement was so rapid, and so unexpected, that the
tiny General, taken unawares, tumbled headlong
from his saddle. The another uttered a sharp
scream, Mary endeavourecj. to grasp her charge, and
Michael, momentarily remorseful for having roused
a temper hitherto latent, wailed and twisted his
fingers together. The father seized his son before
he reached the ground, but that so roughly, that
202 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
the little fellow, unsoldierlike though it was, bel-
lowed with all his might.
The loud voice of the Goliath of the scene, the
mother's screams, Mary's exclamations, JVHchael's
remorseful groans, and the small General's cry of
terror, produced in the apartment a noise nothing
short of tumult.
Richard O'Meara's moody eyes turned from one
to the other.
" Here, girl," he said ; " take this brat from me
and remove him."
Mary clasped her nursling to her bosom, and
nestling there he became still, stealing looks now
and again at his father's altered face, and hiding to
escape the impression it produced on him.
" And now, Sir," said Richard O'Meara, seizing
Michael by the collar, and shaking him as if he
were a reed, " why have you dared to practise your
ill-performed buffoonery on me? Why, under
cover of such assumed tom-foolery, have you dared
to insinuate that I have drunk too much ?"
"Masther Dick, indeed I didn't—"
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADEa 203
** You lying whelp ! — ^you did so insinuate. Dare
you say it now openly, sirrah, without personating
the folly that does not belong to you ? Dare you
say openly — that I am— drunk f Answer me, cur ?
Am I drunk ? — am I ? — ^answer me !"
At each question Michael was shaken violently by
the strong arm that held him. It was with difficulty
he could gasp out his reply.
" Masther — Dick ! — you are — not a — down-
right — drunken man — but — "
** But what ? — finish your sentence. But what ?"
" If you take — more — you will — disgrace us all !
— K you take more — ^you will — be — drunk !"
"Hahl By "
And the room was filled with the boisterous oath
which I will not record.
" ^You are a virulent, slandering cur. Were
I even to drink until my head burst open, how
comes it that such as you should attempt to control
me ? By ," and the oath was repeated, ** I
will dislocate every joint in your body before I
204 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
At this mad moment, when the infuriated man
seemed blindly intent on the execution of his threat,
two little hands clasped his arm. He started, and
looked down at his wife's pale, beseeching face.
" My beloved Richard !" she softly said.
The voice appealed to his heart, if not to his
reason. There was a hush of the storm; the
strong grasp relaxed, and Michael freed himself
and retreated to a little distance.
"Was it with your consent, Ellen, that this
paltry, presumptuous trick was practised on me ?"
" Upon my honour, no, dearest Richard !"
" I believe you. Then sit down, Ellen, and do
not interfere. Go you, sirrah, 1511 up that decanter,
and bring it hither instantly. Else I will so chas-
tise you that your nearest of kin will not recognize
" Go, Michael, go !" added the wife.
Michael's pale face turned yet paler, but he
replied, calmly and deliberately,
"Do as you say, Masther Dick, do, if it
pleasures you. 'Twill be no hard task for you to
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 205
work out your threatenings. You are a tall and
powerful man, and I am a small and delicate one.
Your arm is strong and heavy, while mine is puny
and weak. If you will chastise me as you say,
little chance have I to make head against you.
And — now that I see — you're fixed on your own
destruction, 'tis little matter to me if you stretched
me at your feet this moment a corpse. Do, use
your strength upon me. But, come what may. III
give no helping hand to your downfall. I'll not be
the one to hand you poison. Not I, Masther Dick,
not I. Not if you struck me with your heavy hand
until the life left me !"
The last words of this long protest were scarcely
audible, for Michael's voice trembled. He burst
into tears, and covering his face with both his
hands, he sobbed convulsively.
Michael's temperament was feminine. He lacked
the bodily nerve that urges to pugnacity, but he
possessed the moral courage to do without wincing
what he considered right.
His words, the manner of their delivery, and the
206 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
tender, womanlike affection they displayed, had a
powerful effect on Richard O'Meara. He looked
on the poor fellow remorsefully, — ^his eyes softened.
Mary thought this a favourable opportunity to lead
Michael away. Before this, however, she whis-
pered to her mistress, and Ellen spoke up whisper-
ingly to her husband. Mary had slipped out,
filled the decanter, and placed it on the side-
board. And so ended the notable plan that
Michael and Mary had so hopefully devised.
As, arm-in-arm, they passed into the hall, some
one retreated before them. It was Nora Spruhan,
who had been a listener to the contention within.
Nora paused in the centre of the hall, and ad-
dressed Michael and Mary.
"The day of reckoning for me is nigh at hand,"
she said. And then she turned swiftly down the
passage leading to the kitchen.
"Lord help us! — 'tis likely to be coming,''
Michael groaned as he looked after the girl.
And did Richard O'Meara allow the kindly feelings
natural to him full scope, when the outburst of
passion resulting from partial excess had subsided ?
Silently and gloomily he sat him down, and
leaned his head upon his hand. There was a self-
accuser within him, and the mirror that was hel
before his mind's eye was irksome to look in.
So, to escape the self-reproach he felt, he grasped
the liquor Mary had brought in, and he drank —
and drank — and drank.
After a while he desired his wife to leave him .
Too much terrified by what she had witnessed
208 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
to think of refusing, she obeyed without expos-
And there Richard O'Meara remained until the
whisky he had been supplied with was exhausted.
After a short, feverish sleep, he arose betimes,
but with an aching head and nervous hand. He
repaired to his office at an early hour, and there
affected to be occupied. This, however, was mere
affectation ; he was unfit for the simplest details of
business. He awaited his wife's summons to break-
fast, and this he instantly obeyed.
"Ellen, dear Ellen," he supplicated, "can you
forgive me? I have outraged and insulted you,
my wife; — will you pardon me?"
" Pardon you, dearest Richard ? — Oh, yes ! — You
were not unkind to me during your temporary for-
" I thank you, Ellen, — ^I thank you. But to this
poor fellow I have been unkind— and cruel. One
moment, Ellen, one moment."
Michael was standing in the hall, looking sad and
dejected, as his foster-brother entered with "the
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 209
posy.** Richard 0*Meara went over to him. He
took one of Michael's hands in his, and laid the
other on his shoulder, as he stooped down to whisper
in his ear.
" Michael,** he said, " I ask your forgiveness. It
id the last time you shall see me so affected, Michael
— the last time.**
" From the bottom of my heart I pray,** answered
Michael, " that it may be the last time. Masther
Dick, ask of God on high that he may give you his
holy grace to enable you to keep your word.**
« « « « «
" Michael was of opinion,** said Mary Hanrahan
to me, ** that Richard 0*Meara did not pray for
grace. For Michael says, if grace be prayed for,
grace will be given. An* I agree with Michael,**
I will close this short Chapter by saying, that the
creed of Michael and Mary is my creed also.
ANOTHER SHORT CHAPTER. MICHAEL'S SIMILE OF
THE BLUE-BOTTLE, AND MICHAEL's IMITATION OF
It is not my intention to follow Richard O'Meara
step by step as he was led on by the Achates of
" The Town of the Cascades." From the lengthened
details given me by Michael and Mary, and derived
from other sources too, I will select a few remark-
able occurrences that stand prominently forward.
For a time Richard O'Meara fulfilled the promise
he had made to Michael. He remained at home in
the evenings, and did not visit the town, and he
endeavoured to fix himself steadily to business. He
was moderate too in his libations, and forced himself
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 211
to be content with the "allowance," as Michael
named it, put into the decanter each evening.
But the cheerful buoyancy of his spirits was
damped by the constraint to which he endeavoured
to submit Gradually his efforts relaxed, and on —
on he went again in his ruinous progress.
" He reminded me at that time," said Michael,
** of a big blue fly that's caught in a spider's web.
He wrangled hard to get free, and then he stopped
in his wrangling. And then he wrangled again,
and stopped again; — ^and stopped, and wrangled,
and stopped, and wrangled. Every time he stopped
nd began again, his fluttering and kicking and
buzzing was weaker, and weaker,— until he gave up
entirely. And if you will only say to yourself that
the crawling, ill-looking spider that crept out and
dragged him away was the evil sperrit that pours
. out the liquor for people, you'll have exactly my
notion of the poor fellow's fate.
**You may take my word for it," Michael con-
tinued when he had paused after the sententious
delivery of his apt, though not elegant simile —
212 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" You may take my word for it, that what I heard
Father Mathew saying (the Heavens be his bed)
in the chapel beyond, is all as one as gospel thruth."
Here Michael threw himself into an oratorical
attitude, and modified his features to represent
Father Mathew's peculiar bland benevolence of
smile. It was a caricature likeness he produced no
doubt, yet Michael's face was benevolent in its
way. And although no two faces could be more
dissimilar than those of Michael Hanrahan and the
apostle of temperance, — the former being remark-
able for nondescript irregularity, the other for classic
contour, — there was as near an approach to likeness
of expression as could be efiected. Michael's style
bore evidence that his was a very free translation of
the original text As it was, I quote verbatim.
"My dear friends" (says Father Mathew),
" there is nothing at all at all to stand for the poor
sowl, God help it, that's given to the liquor, but to
put the sign of the cross on its forehead, as a thresh-
old betwixt itself and the Devil, — ^a threshold
across which the ould lad darn't put his hoof, or so
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 213
much as the tip of his claw. And then let it turn
its back upon the dhrink teetumtotally, and never
let it scald its tongue again."
Which, to my mind, is good, sound doctrine,
however oddly paraphrased by Michael Hanrahan.
THE widow-woman's PLACE OF ** ENTERTAINMENT."
On a certain evening, at the hour when night had
begun to unfold her pall, and was gradually envelop-
ing objects beneath its screen, the western edge
thereof being gilt by the latest touch of the retiring
sun, the Half-pay issued from his little shabby-
genteel house, looked around him for a moment,
sniffed the pleasant breeze with a relish, and then
stumped down the descent towards the river.
Briskly and hastily the Half-pay pushed across
the bridge. From the celerity and liveliness of his
motions one would infer that he was bent on some
important business; and I have full reason for
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 215
asserting that the interior merriment of which I
have before spoken, circulated freely between his
firmly closed lips and teeth, — significant that the
object in view was " apples and nuts to him."
Over the bridge he hastened, looking intently
before him, glancing neither to the right nor left,
not even beguiled into taking a passing view of
the cascades. They might tumble upward for all
he cared just then.
Off the bridge, into the main street he went*
Across the street he hurried, and with a lively hop,
and a flourish of his cudgel, he ascended a etep at
the threshold of a shop directly fronting him, and
there entered. All alive and mettlesome he seemed
Through the well-burnished windows of this shop,
and so disposed on a shelf or counter within as to be
seen at a glance, one caught sight of a pyramid of
loaves of bread. Close to the bread was a cheese,
with a wedge-shaped cut therein, proving the
interior to be rich and crumbling. And on this
cheese lay the instrument with which the incision
216 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
had been made, ready to say, "Cut and come
again " when required.
In close neighbourhood with the cheese was a
juicy round of beef; a great carving knife lay
thereon, both able and willing, if set to work, to
slice away manfully. Close by this again, was a
boiled ham, partially incised, as the cheese was,
and most enticing, to judge by the eye, — ^the lean
so red and crisp, the fat so blanched and clarified.
And there was a flitch of bacon, in a sitting posture,
that looked down, one would think, affectionately
on the partly excavated ham. Very probably this
flitch of bacon, and its neighbour the ham, had, not
very long ago, been united portions of some animal,
— whilom lord and master of the cabin he dwelt in,
little imagining the purpose for which he was so
pampered and caressed, so well cared and housed.
Then there was a large wooden bowl to be seen,
heaped up with eggs, beyond water-measure : there
was a dish choke-full of small *' prints of butter :"
and there was also a large crock of the same edible
pickled, the mouth of the crock turned streetwards
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 217
with a grooved wooden spatula plunged therein,
prepared for action.
Somewhat in the rear of this surpassing fare, and
modestly disclaiming "pride of place," stood a
singed pig's head with very erect ears, and close
thereto a heap of dingy-looking pigs' ** pettitoes " —
or ** crubeens," in local parlance.
Immediately in contact with the window-panes
was a castle formed of scalloped-edged biscuits
Hanging up, so as to catch the eye at once ; there
was a bundle of clay pipes, the bowls capped with
tin covers, and these chained to the pipe-shanks. And
there were " doodeens " manufactured by an artist
in that line living in " The Town of the Cascades,"
these deserving special description. The heads of
the " doodeens " then, were of mahogany, the bowls
of tin, and the shanks of sweet woodbine. They
were profusely ornamented with copper wire, and
amateurs in smoking have told me that such
doodeens surpass the costliest meerschaums.
As a final portion of the exhibition in the
window, 1 have to notice six sad-looking pickled
218 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
herrings, erect, but leaning against the glass for
support, and standing on the apex of their snouts.
Were these lachrymose pickled herrings so placed
for the purpose of contrasting with the more gene-
rous fare on view at the same time ? So I at first
supposed, but I was mistaken.
Over the door of this well-provisioned estabhsh-
ment was a sign-board bearing one significant
word : —
— in large white letters on a black ground.
The well-cooked beefsteak or mutton-chop, with
ceteras, and followed by bottled ale and whisky
punch, could be very cosily served up in the little
overfumished, carpeted room up-stairs.
Rasher-and-egg eaters, or eaters of eggs alone,
were generally satisfied to regale themselves at a
table on which the kitchen fire shed its genial glow.
While the bread and cheese and butter consumers,
or the diners on a meagre pickled herring, were
content with a seat in the common tap-room.
For one moment or so I must be allowed to take
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 219
a glance at the interior of the shop belonging to the
house of " Entertainment."
At a few feet from the termination of the counter,
which ran from the window almost to the wall oppo-
site, an upright partition of boards projected, and
this formed a screen, behind which the stealthy
dram-drinker who had not " come to make a sitting
of it," might " turn up his little finger " while hastily
tossing off his glass of liquor. The counter was to
the right as you entered the shop ; to the left there
were three capacious puncheons, light blue in colour,
and marked No. 1, No. 2, No. 3; the number
signifying a gradation of merit in the contents. On
shelves behind the counter were ranged many light
blue kegs. And below these, and opposite the
screen, stood, each in a cell of its own, six squat,
unusually corpulent, Dutch-built bottles.
These bottles were tightly corked, but through
the cork of each a strong whipcord passed, which
was fastened firmly round the bottle's neck. A
smart pull at the string, and out came the cork in
a jiffy, safely dangling, while the contents gurgled
220 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
forth. The familiars of the convenient screen
averred, that aU and every of the black bottles
could speak one word of the Irish language as
plainly as if they " had it in theur throttles."
At the instant when the cork was snatched from
the orifice it filled, and the neck of the bottle
bent to the glass, the well-understood word
" Dhuich r was heard, plain as it could be uttered.
And the translated meaning of the word " Dhuich /"
is " drink !" used by the bottles in the imperative
The willing obeyers of the mandate so enunciated,
fiirther aflSrmed, that each individual bottle issued
its command in a tone peculiarly its own. Every
hider behind the screen cultivated an intimacy with
one or other of the bottles in preference to the rest.
He could therefore decide, without probability of
error, if the '* Dhuich /" had come from his own
favourite. He could not be imposed on by a stran-
ger's voice, or beguiled to stimulate his palate with
any but its accustomed stimulant.
CHAFPER XX [I.
THE *' LONE llOOM."
When the Half-pay had hopped into the house of
'* Entertainment," he performed an odd pirouette
with hid composite leg, punched it down thrice, as
though to say emphatically, ** We have arrived, my
lad I" And then he brought his cudgel to present
arms while he placed the edge of his left hand above
the rim of his beaver. This accolade was given to
a buxom, comely woman, who stood behind the
counter. This woman might be forty, or there-
abouts. She was Dutch-built, like her bottles ; her
eye was blue (sky-blue eyes are very general in and
about "The Town of the Cascades"); — no doubt
but these blue-eyes had emitted ethereal rays when
222 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
their owner was in her maiden prime ; — their ex-
pression even now was not quite lost, but there was
shrewdness superadded. Her plump cheeks were
rosy ; their girlish peachiness had hardened though ;
her hair was glistening auburn (such is also very
general in the locality); — it was carefully curled
about her face. She wore a gown of some dark
colour ; a checked apron " from the fold " guarded
this to the front ; a many-coloured silk kerchief
enveloped her bust ; and she wore a cap with pink
strings and a pink bow above the left ear. It was
not a widow's cap— no, no ; it was a kind of com-
promise cap, with quilling and lace in great abun-
dance ; and this compromise cap was very becoming,
the pink strings and bows taking from it all cha-
racter of sombreness.
This tidy, pleasant-looking — but, at the same
time "not-to-be-caught-with-chaff" person, was the
" widow-woman" of the " Town of the Cascades " —
the Half-pay's widow- woman especially, as the reader
will doubtless remember.
When the Half-pay saluted his old nurse, the
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 223
widow-woman held a small wooden instrument, with
a slender neatly-turned handle, and an ornamental
knob at the end, — not unlike, in fact, a royal
sceptre as to shape and size. This sceptre was
technically called a " muller," and was used by the
widow-woman to bruise the sugar against the
bottom of the glass when she brewed a " tumbler of
punch." The expertness with which she twirled
■ this muller between her fingers, proved indeed that
*' practice makes perfect" It is certain that with it
she could efiect a thorough amalgamation of sugar
and water in a battery of twelve or more ** tumblers"
placed in a row, in a twentieth of the time the same
process would have demanded through the every-
day agency of spoon or ladle. Scientific preparers
of solutions would do well to take a hint from the
widow-woman's muller. It may give them a wrinkle
In answer to the Half-pay's salute, the comely
widow-woman jerked the handle of her muller
between the first and second fingers of her right
224 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
hand, and twirling it upwards, placed it cross-wise
above the jaunty pink bow that so expressively
removed all idea of pining or sadness from the cap.
Her look into the Half-pay's eyes was steady and
unflinching as his own, but with her there was a
jocularity in the eyes, and about the mouth, that
imparted a piquancy to her return of the veteran's
The Half-pay, after a due pause, lowered his
cudgel and placed it, ever so gently, on the widow-
woman's shoulder, while she also lowered her muller,
brought its knob in contact with the counter, and
leaned her palm on it.
" Any — one ?" the Half-pay asked, jerking his
head towards the end of the shop.
The widow-woman separated the fingers of her
left hand and held four of them up to view. At the
same time she bent the first joint of her thumb, and
protruded the ball thereof, so as to produce an
easily appreciable representation of a duck. She
touched each upright finger separately, and then she
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 225
tapped the duck's head, and allowed the muller to
rest upon it.
" Not come yet. Will t/ou, Curnel?"
The Half-pay paused a moment, and his riveted
look at her was not without humour. But you
should have studied his (ace somewhat to dis-
" I will."
" Then he's welcome. If not, home again in full
trot," said the widow-woman.
Lest those who read this narrative should be
perplexed by the conversation held partly in dumb
show between the hostess of the house of " Enter-
tainment " and her friend the Half-pay, I think a
translation of her hieroglyphics necessary. When
she touched her four upright fingers with her muller,
she replied to the query " Any — one ?" by telling
the querist that four of his usual evening com-
panions had reached the place of rendezvous. The
duck formed by the contortion of her thumb, typified
our acquaintance, Tom O'Loughlin, " the decayed
gentleman." The symbol was not strictly accurate,
VOL. I. Q
226 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
to be sure; neither are those discovered on the
walls of the pyramids, by the bedusted rummagers
therein. There is a hard strain needed at times by
the learned explorers, to bring the buckle and tongue
of an interpretation in contact. And the widow-
woman's symbol of Tom O'Loughlin was as apt as
"Tom O'Loughlin," she reasoned, "drinks as
often as a duck. He eats, to be sure, — so do ducks
— but with every morsel he must have a drink, just
as ducks feed. His element is the fluid, not the
solid, therefore when my thumb is modelled to
represent a duck, it represents Tom O'Loughlin.
It will be seen that the meaning of the widow-
woman was evident to the Half-pay. The query
verbally propounded while she held her muUer
on the duck's head, and thoroughly understood by
the Half-pay, was, —
" Will you pay for the duck's drink, Cumel ?"
The assent given by the Half-pay insured Tom
O'Loughlin's admission, his score being already out
of all proportion with his ability to expunge. For a
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 227
long time Tom had been inadmissible, except
under the auspices of a guarantee. If such were
not to be found, the poor droughty Tom should
waddle out of the shop, and creep back to his
miserable little house to spend the hours intended
by him to be added to the day, in solitary, pining
When the Half-pay had notified his intentions to
be answerable for the ** duck's" reckoning of the
night, he punched off merrily in the direction towards
which he had nodded.
At the end of the counter there was a side-door,
the latch of which he raised, and descended three
steps into a narrow, tortuous passage. This pas-
sage was dimly lighted by candles fixed in sconces
here and there, to the walls. But the " darkness
visible " of the crooked entry was suflScient for the
Half-pay ; he could have explored it blindfold, so
often had he at nightfall traced its ups and downs,
its twists and turns.
Finally he reached a door, which he opened by
pressing a latch, and entered an apartment a good
228 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
way to the rear of the generally known portion of the
house of '' Entertainment" Here the Bacchanalians
of the " Town of the Cascades," that is, of a certain
grade, might congregate beyond the ken of prying
Cynicism. Here the "honest, hearty, pleasant
fellows," as they dubbed themselves, might pour
their libations ad libitum^ no one the wiser except
the widow-woman and her " coy maiden." And the
boisterousness that for the most part distinguished
the prolonged orgies of this properly de^gnated
"lone room" might rise to any pitch of uproarious-
ness, unheard by the passers in the street, or by the
inhabitants of the neighbouring houses.
The " lone room " was homely in decoration and
furniture. A plain deal table occupied the centre,
with deal forms running parallel thereto on both
sides, and a chair at either end. There was no fire-
place; perhaps the deficiency was not without a
purpose. On cr)ld winter nights, heat was supplied
internally by means of steaming alcoholic drink;
the colder the weather, the greater the quantity re-
quired to raise the temperature of the guests. On
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 229
summer evenings, the cool atmosphere of the " lone
room " absorbed the excess of caloric.
The whitewashed walls were relieved from their
blankness by six prints, in frames covered with
shining metal, imitative of gilding. These had been
purchased by the widow-woman from a travelling
pedlar, while the " lone room " was in process of re-
modelling. Glaring in colour the prints were,
and just because they flashed gaudily upon the eye,
admirably adapted, in the purchaser's estimation, to
adorn the new apartment. Their fitness so far being
admitted, their appropriateness in all other respects
must be denied.
The three pendants against the right-hand wall,
that is to the right as the Half-pay hopped in, were
three saints, — not portraits, I venture to affirm, for
they were scowling, sinister-looking saints. The
three to the left were illustrative of the Scripture
parable of the Prodigal Son. The saints were re-
spectively attired in robes of the brightest red, the
brightest blue, and the brightest yellow. The
artist's idea seemed to be that saints should be
230 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
clothed in the most brilliant hues of the rainbow,
referable, perhaps, to their state of beatitude. So far,
his idea was carried out ; in other respects I must
say he failed to impart even a remote expression of
sanctity — rather the contrary, I regret to admit.
The first of the series to the left, commemorative
of the progress of the Prodigal Son, calls for a par-
ticular description, and which will ^ve an idea of
The youth was about to leave the paternal roof
The father was seated in a gorgeously carpeted
room hung with family pictures in massive frames.
There was a scarlet covered settee^ not a downright
modem lounger. The window-hangings were of
brilliant red, fringed and tasselled. In bookcases
were richly bound books, and amongst them, promi-
nently in view, were the " Encyclopaedia Britannica "
in many volumes, the "Arabian Nights," "Sir
Charles Grandison," and "The Sportsman's Dic-
tionary." Altogether, the family pictures, the
character of the furniture, etc., led the observer to
understand that he looked into the apartment of an
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 231
English country gentleman of wealth and station,
and the selection of the books notified that he was
also a man of erudite habits becoming his years and
Early in the day the young adventurer was about
to depart. This was evident from the fact of the
father being yet in dishabille. He had not removed
his elaborately figured dressing-gown; his many-
buckled wig, indeed, was on his head, with the
black silk appendage therefrom called a bag; his
nether-man was clothed in tight-fitting pantaloons,
and he wore red morocco slippers without heels.
The prodigal's father, so depicted, was a stately,
sage-looking English gentleman of sixty years
He sat at a small, diagonal table supported by a
single pedestal. On this table a goodly pyramid of
gold pieces was heaped up, and there was no doubt
about their being, all of them, genuine British
guineas, not long, apparently, from the imint, —
certainly not in circulation at the commencement of
the Christian era. These guineas had just been
232 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES,
counted down by the affluent head of the house, his
fingers were in contact with the edge of the heap,
and he was looking up soberly, and somewhat re-
provingly at his son.
The youth stood close by the diagonal table, and
his eyes were fixed longingly on the glittering
portion he was about to receive. He was fully
equipped for his journey, ready to pop into the
saddle. He was bareheaded, as he should be in his
father's presence; his hair, well powdered and
pomatumed, was frizzed and buckled from his ears
to his forehead, while a taper queue hung between
his shoulders. His coat was of bright blue, orna-
mented down the front with two rows of gilt buttons ;
pantaloons must have been in vogue when the illus-
tration was designed, for the young adventurer wore
those nether garments, of a very positive yellow, in
tasteful contrast with his scarlet waistcoat. A long
watch-chain, with massive seals thereto, hung down
his thigh, and on his legs were hessian-boots, with
tassels to the front reaching half-way to the insteps.
On his heels were crane-necked silver spurs ; in his
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 233
left hand was a silver-mounted riding-whip, and in
his right, a smart, three-cocked hat, ready to be
placed on his bepowdered head as soon as the
pyramid of guineas on the table should have been
handed over to him.
Whether these delineations deserved commenda-
tion or not, I must give my opinion again that the
saints had no business whatever in the widow-
woman's " lone room." And I will say that the moral
inculcated by the parable was little heeded by its
frequenters. Night after night the saints looked
on perforce at conduct the reverse of saintlike.
While the warning conveyed in the Scripture lesson
was altogether thrown away on " the gay, honest,
hearty fellows " who met there.
A '* NIGHT OF IT."
When the Half-pay entered the "lone room,"
as the widow-woman's muller and fingers had
inthnated, four of its frequenters had already
Ned Culkin the ganger was there. Ned was
always the first to come and the last to leave. By
his own account, he was "none of your pippin-
squeezing fellows" that would flinch from their
glass. No, he was not the lad to bring down on
his head the malediction — ^by whom propounded, I
cannot say, — " Cursed be he who leaves his liquor
behind him." And Ned Culkin's early-day leaden
eyes were sparkling; the round face that in the
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 235
morning had been pale and flabby, was rubicund
and plump ; the lips that had been shrivelled parch-
ment were smooth and ruddy; his "shivering of
cold" was past for the time; in fact, Ned was
"himself again," "brisk as a bee, light as a
Nick Mahafly was there, the pompous little
draper and silk-mercer, who always stooped when
entering the chapel, to avoid knocking his head
against the door-post, many feet above it.
Toby Purcell, the landlord of the "McMahon
Anns," was there. Toby Purcell often stole away
from his own more pretentious establishment to in-
dulge in the unobserved jovialities of the "lone
Paddy Dreelan, grocer and spirit-dealer, was
there. Wherever Mr. Nick Mahafly went, Paddy
Dreelan was ambitious to be his satellite.
But neither Nick Mahafly, nor Toby Purcell,
nor yet the modest Paddy Dreelan, were deep-goers.
Whenever they stole into the "lone room" they
entered it at a pretty early hour, and retired betimes.
236 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
Ned Culkin stood up and held his glass high;
the others followed his example, and the Colonel's
health was toasted energetically. The complimented
man saluted the shoulders of Nick Mahafiy and
Toby Purcell with a hearty bang in passing ; shook
hands across the table with Paddy Dreeling and
Ned Culkin, and took his usual place near the head
of the table. Even before he was seated the widow-
woman's waitress, a pleasant-looking girl, had
placed a steaming tumbler where she knew her
most cherished guest always took his seat.
" Health 1" burst forth the Half-pay, and he waved
his glass round, then took a deep draught, and
looked at his compeers with great intensity.
Shortly after the Half-pay had left the widow-
woman's shop on his way to the " lone room," in
crept the poor "duck," rubbing his hands and
" I hope I see you quite well, Mrs. Morrissy ?"
he said, curving his features to their most abject
** Cry success to the Cumel, my poor fellow ;"
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 237
and the widow-woman twirled her muUer in the
direction of the side-door.
(^," May the Curners pocket never be — "
" Without a cross to keep the man with the
horny toes out of it! Eh, Tom?" The muller
again pointed out "the way he should go," and
Tom O'Loughlin passed on to his night's revel.
One by one otliers made their appearance. No
more than one at a time ever entered the house of
" Entertainment." Had its frequenters come in a
flock, or even in pairs, it would have been noticed.
A sudden dart into the shop when no eye was ob-
serving; no pause therein — quick, quick, out of
view behind the screen, and in through the winding
passage. This was the general mode of entrance to
the privacy of the " lone room." — A first-rate specu-
lation on the part of the widow-woman was this " lone
room." Good reason had she to congratulate herself
on her perception of the phase of human frailty that
makes people set a value on hidden pleasures, and
think lightly of secret peccadillos. Half an hour
after the arrival of the Half-pay, there were not less
240 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
been compelled to take in the prevailing intemper-
ance around him. He remembered with disgust
what had passed; he would not again have ac-
companied his master, did he not consider his
services might be needed. It was Teague's convic-
tion that his guardianship was requisite.
Richard O'Meara, as I have said, entered the
widow-woman's shop with a contracted brow and a
surly compression of the lips.
He had left home to escape his causes for self-
accusation. There, his wife's pale face, struggling
to disguise its terror under a sickly feint of smiling
eagerness, had been a reproach to him. Michael
Hanrahan's cheerless looks of disapproval had been
a reproach to him. His eldest boy's apprehensive
avoidance had been a reproach to him. The
shrinking of his younger child from his loud voice,
and his roughness, had been a reproach to him.
Mary's thin artifice to avoid intrusting the baby but
lately bom to his arms, had been a reproach to him.
A dogged, morose resentment towards the home
accusers took possession of him. And in this mood,
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 241
his eye scowling, and his chest heaving with pent-up
anger, he had sprung from his seat, and had left the
place of accusation to seek forgetf ulness in the noisy
and senseless fellowship of the "lone room/'
" Go with him, and take care of him, good dog,"
said Michael Hanrahan, stooping to Teague's ear
and whispering therein.
Teague looked into his adviser's sorrowful eyes,
and understood him.
So it was that Richard O'Meara and his dog
Teague, the one in surly humour, the other in dis-
charge of an unpleasant duty, entered the widow-
PLEASANT, HEABTY FELLOWSHIP.
HERE was a hubbub of voices filling the apartment
as Richard O'Meara raised the latch of the '' lone
The pompous Nick Mahafiy was " insisting " on
something most dictatorially, and at the highest
pitch of his voice. Toby Purcell, in a mellow bass,
with a waggish smile playing round his mouth, was
steadily eliciting Nick Mahafiy's dictatorship. Paddy
Dreelan was boisterous on Nick Mahafiy's side of
the question. (By-the-way, Paddy Dreelan had
been, as Toby Purcell insinuated, busy looking at
somebody's tumbler going to his, Paddy's moutlu)
Ned Culkin the ganger, in a brazen, harsh voice,
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 243
was pert and snappish with every one. Tom
O'Loughlin was loud in his approval of everything
that everybody said. Others, in twos and threes,
were eagerly discussing isolated topics, all talking
loud, as needs must, if they wished their nearest
neighbours to comprehend the gist of their discourse.
On one point there was unanimity; all were
devotedly imbibing the widow-woman's " liqueur de
contradiction," as I have heard whisky-punch not
The only person in the " lone room" not vociferat-
ing was our friend the Half-pay, or Colonel. He still
sat where he had first fixed himself, to all appearance
unchanged and unchangeable. His stem look was
* The term " liqueur de contradiction " was applied, I
have been told, by some astonished Frenchman to Ireland's
national beverage, on first beholding the admixture of in-
gredients, and further when he witnessed its effect on those
who drank it. " There was," he said, " whisky to make it
strong, and water to make it weak : there was sugar to make
it sweet, and lemon to make it sour." So far it was certainly
a " liqueur de contradiction." And as to its efiects on the
drinkers it was also a " liqueur de contradiction," inasmuch
as no two persons were found to be of one mind after in-
dulgence in it.
244 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
riveted, now on one, now on another ; occasionally
a single " Hah !" escaped him, — quite suflScient, the
brief monosyllabic laugh, to testify that the din was
gratifying to him.
All at once the Half-pay sprang up to his full
height. His glass was elevated above his head;
his jaws were snapped asunder, and he vociferated
the single word " Welcome !" with such stentorian
force of lungs that it was heard above the uproar.
Every look was instantly directed to the point indi-
cated by the exclaimant's cudgel, and every " gay
honest fellow " was on his feet promptly.
" Health !" the Half-pay bellowed, and he flourished
his glass with one hand^ and his cudgel with the
«'Mr. Richard O'Mearas health and hearty
welcome !" sang out Tom O'Loughlin. And " Mr.
O'Meara's health and welcome," went from mouth
Tom O'Loughlin threw himself backward on his
seat, thereby protruding his chiest so as to give a
purchase, as it were, to his lungs, and his "Hip,
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 245
hip, hurra 1" rang through the room as shrilly as if it
were a trumpet-note sounded in the din of battle.
Tom O'Loughlin was celebrated far and near
for his effective leadership whenever *'Hip, hip,
hurra!" was to be sung out. It was a small
ambition, but it was an ambition with Tom
O'Loughlin to be so distinguished. Every one to
his vocation I
So Tom O'Loughlin took upon himself on the
present occasion (no one better fitted) to act as
fugleman of the " lone room." He waved his glass
backward and forward before his face, swaying his
person with the motion as he sang out, with a
brazen distinctness : —
** For he's a right good fellow !
For he's a right good fellow I
For he's a right good fel-l-o — w !
Which nobody can deny :
Which nobody can deny,
Which nobody can deny —
For he's a right good fellow !
Which nobody can deny.
Hip ! hip ! —hurra ! ^hurra ! hurra !"
This standard ditty, certainly not distinguished
246 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
for its lyric excellence, was joined in by the entire as-
semblage of the " lone" room," the Half-pay excepted,
who contented himself with bellowing out the final
syllable of each line. Tom O'Loughlin was the
leader of the strain throughout. Could the saints on
the wall have escaped from their frames, off out of
hearing they would have raced, to a dead certainty,
so stunning was the discord.
Yet when the finishing " Hip, hip, hurra !" had
been shouted, and that every " right good fellow '*
had thrown back his head, gazed at the ceiling, and
en^ptied his glass, neighbour smiled blandly upon
neighbour, each congratulating the other on the
musical feat they had accomplished.
Tom O'Loughlin, the fugleman, banged his empty
glass down upon the table as he resumed his seat.
Every " right good fellow " banged down his at the
same moment, and Ned Culkin, protruding his lips,
emitted a peculiar, quivering scream that rang shrill
and piercing, not only through the " lone room,"
but also up the passage and into the shop. Almost
instantly the Hebe of the establishment appeared.
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 247
She pounced on the drained measures with marvel-
lous celerity, they were all on her tray in the
twinkling of an eye, and away she went. Many
seconds did not elapse until they were ranged single
file in front of the widow-woman. In went sugar and
water with magical despatch ; — pop, popl in dived
the muUer. " Dhmchy dhuichy dhmch /" screamed
and shouted the black bottles. Widow-woman,
Hebe, muUer, and black bottles were all so active
and willing in their several vocations, that before the
slightest note of impatience could escape the *^ right
good fellows," a replenished, steaming jorum was at
every man's right hand.
Richard O'Meara's knotted brow uncoiled; his
eyes flashed with excitement, and an expression of
reckless abandonment replaced the surly expression
of his lips.
He put on a frolicksome, devil-may-carish air.
(No less objectionable term would be so descriptive of
his manner.) He threw himself into an exaggerated
rhetorical attitude ; with sonorous voice and theatrical
action he addressed his expectant audience.
248 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" * Friends, countrymen, and lovers —
" * Most potent, grave, and reverend seniors,' which
description of the immortal poet, it must be ad-
mitted, suits you to a T — -rhyme and reason together,
you see. I am curved double, as you may per-
ceive ; I cannot stand erect before you, so oppressed
and weighed down am I by the magnitude of the
obligation you have imposed upon me. So over-
come am I by the enthusiastic, the vociferous, the
obstreperous cordiality of your welcome that "
"Hear, hear, hear!" fugled Tom O'Loughlin,
shrill as a whistle.
"Hear, hearl" Toby Purcell added, in his
pleasant, mellow bass. Toby's "hear!" was an
utterance of enjoyment, Tom 0'Loughlin*8 of adu-
"Hear!" bellowed the Half-pay. And the cry
was taken up and shouted bravely.
"Grand I" suggested Nick Mahafly to Paddy
Dreelan, across the table.
"Grand— grand entirely,*' assented Paddy, ob-
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 249
" Silence, silence^ and be damned to the whole of
ye !" barked forth Ned Culkin. " You're stopping
the speech. Go on, my worthy, go on !"
^ In vain haye I paused," resumed the mocking
orator, "for words — whereby — to — express — the —
the — agonizing poignancy— of— my — feelings — at
— this — ^moment "
What change was it that came over Richard
O'Meara ? Was the sinking of the voice to a plain-
tive quavering, affected or real ? Was the choking
spasm in the throat assumed only? Was that
sudden pause, as if the words would not come up-
wards, no more than acting ? Was that harassing
expression of face counterfeited ? Was the watery
film in the eye brought there artificially? Was
that resounding blow upon the chest inflicted for
effect alone ?
No — no. I have it from Toby Purcell, the only
person present perhaps who perceived the change,
that he looked with surprise at Richard O'Meara's
altered countenance. And he understood on the
instant that the words of the sentence, begun in
250 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
mockery, had brought suddenly to the speaker's mind
the recollection of all he had forfeited, and the de->
gradation to which he had descended ; that the sub-
sidence of the voice, the struggle for utterance, the
tears ready to overflow the eyes, and the smiting of
the chest were reality, not acting.
With a violent start, as if rushing from the
presence of an accuser, Richard CMeara passed his
hand hurriedly across his forehead and eyes. And
then his mask of bravadoing jocularity was again
" Come, my jolly companions, every one," he
cried out; "our honest, hearty Colonel did not
exhaust the vocabulary when prefacing my health.
One word as if shot out of a musket was sufficient
for his purpose, and I will detain yon no longer
from the lethean draught that changes the leaden
eye of grief to sparkling diamonds. If this glass — "
and he held it forth at arm's length — " were a well,
sixty feet to the bottom, and filled with hot and
strong whisky-punch, I'd drink it every drop to the
good health of every pleasant fellow I see around
THK TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 251
me. Good health, merry and jolly days and nights
to all of us. We'll drive dull care away, boys ;
we'll tickle the ribs of mirth until he laughs lustily,
and we'll chorus him as he laughs, — upon my soul
we will, boys I"
And Richard O'Meara drained his draught of
lethe amid the clamorous approval of the "lone
room," Ned Culkin's peculiar scream piercing
through the din.
" Gentlemen all," said Tom O'Loughlin, passing
his hands through each other smoothly, speaking
softly and insinuatingly, and grinning to the corners
of his eyes — " I'm going to say what I know you'd
like, and it is this: I propose that Richard
O'Meara, Esquire, of Cascade Cottage, be our
chairman of the night."
" Hear I" exploded the Half-pay ; and there was
a general noisy assent.
" So be it, my merry men all, so be it. I accept
at once the hilarious duties of your chairman.
Noh episcopari is out of place here. And so to it
252 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES,
With a rakish swagger of manner he seated
himself at the head of the table.
"Hallo! the vice-chair is vacant, I see. Tom
O'Loughlin, my hearty thorough-goer, I appoint
you as my viceroy. A veteran devotee you are,
Tom O'Loughlin, to our Irish Bacchus — ^a heartier
fellow, by long odds, our Hibernian Bacchus, than
he of the ancients. As his veteran, devotee, friend,
Tom, I place you in the vice-regal chair."
Tom O'Loughlin assumed his station with right
" And now, my jovial lads, you have made me
king of the Gregory, as we used to say at school.
And I don't intend to be your king Log, let me
tell you. I will begin my rule by issuing a decree.
In the first place, we'll make a night of it."
" Hear !" burst from the Half-pay.
" Hear, hear 1" screamed the Vice-chair.
Ned Culkin gave his curious scream, and there
was a boisterous assent so &r.
" Every jolly fellow here present must drink fair.
No heel-taps or sky-lights allowed. When your
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 253
king of the Gregory presenta the bottom of his
tumbler to the zenith, all must follow suit, and when
a fresh round appears, they must be brimmers,
every glass. No one must quit the room to-night
in an erect position— on the leaf of the hat is the
only mode of exit permissible. Such is my decree ;
let no man disobey me at his peril"
"What's the punishment against rebels, Mr.
Chau-r asked Toby Purcell.
'^ The slinker from the ordinance must drink an
extra tumbler — or the Vice-chair or Ned Culkin
must drink it for him."
" Hear, hear !" assented Tom O'Loughlin.
"Ned Culkin is able and willing," agreed the
" We'll begin the business of the night on fair
terms," said the Chairman. " Every tumbler up.
Vice-chair, attend to your duty."
" All primed and loaded " reported the Vice-chair.
" Then, ready, — present, — fire !"
The commander put his glass to his lips, and
emptied it to the bottom.
254 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" Ground arms !*'
Following the example of the chairman, each
tumbler was banged against the table, mouth down-
" Come, Hebe 1** and the king of the Gregory
addressed the watchful waitress. " Another round,
hot, strong, and sweet."
The empty vessels were away and back again in
** Now, boys, we start on equal terms. And this,
our ammunition, must not lose strength by ly'mg
over. I'll give a toast. I'll propose the health —
Of as honest a soul,
As ever drank liquor or fathomed a bowl.
A wrong version of the old song I'm giving you,
but 'twill do. You must take a deep draught to
the health of one who is like an old-times drama
—or like Byron's Caia— * a Mystery.' Not one can
tell who he is or whence he came."
" Hear!'* interrupted the Half-pay, explosively.
" But this we know, every one of us, that after
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 255
a way of his own * he is a right good fellow,' and
that you could not prevail on him to throw a stone
at a bottle of whisky '*
*^ Hear V* broke in the Half-pay, as suddenly and
as loudly as before.
"Come, boys, our Colonel's health. On your
legs — nine times nine — "
All stood up instantly. Glasses were waved, and
the " hip — hurra " was deafening. And the standard
ditty " He is a right good fellow," was chanted.
There was no personation of bashfulness by the
Half-pay. He stamped his cudgel, he stamped his
leg against the floor, and his ^' hip— hurra !" was
even more distinct than that of the vice-chairman.
He remained standing when all the others had re-
sumed their seats. He raised his cudgel aloft, and
banged it down on the chairman's shoulder with
such force as to make the recipient of the blow
'' Health!" he announced, and the same scene
was repeated as before.
**And now, my hearties," flourished the "Chair,*'
256 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADEa
as for brevity and good-fellowship he was called,
^Met the toast and the glass keep going merrily.
* Scrape me, and III scrape you,' shall be the order
of the night. Let one propose the health of some-
one, and that some-one return the compliment, and
so keep the ball a-going. Toby Porcell, send it
" Never say no, Mr. Chair," assented Toby ; and
in his own rotund, plausible way, he brought the
pretensions of the "Vice-chair" before the
In town or country there wasn't a more loyal
disciple of the Irish Bacchus — the god of punch —
Toby made bold to call him. Tom had made an
offering to the tipsy divinity of a nice little property ;
and at one time or another during his life, every
bone in his body had been broken (except his neck-
bone) in the service of the same god. As a further
claim on the affections of those assembled, Toby
Purcell related how Tom O'Loughlin's nose had
been bent nearly in contact with his ld% dieek, by
a blow from a fellow-worshipper. And how, after
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 257
having been worn thus awry for beyond a year, it
had been put back into its original position,
through the favour of the divinity so ardently
followed, by another blow from another fellow-
votary. Toby Purcell, in conclusion, appealed to
Tom O'Loughlin himself as to the truth of his
averments, and Tom pledged his word of honour
as to the perfect accuracy of the statements. Toby
Purcell therefore put it to the meeting — " Wasn't
the poor fellow that suffered so much in so
good a cause deserving to have his health drunk ?"
The claim was fiilly admitted, and Tom's health
was toasted with all the honours.
On the " scrape me and I'll scrape you " prin-
ciple decreed by the Chair, Tom O'Loughlin pro-
posed Toby Purcell's health. Tom's body was
bent ; his hands, as usual, revolved smoothly round
each other ; his voice was soft and insinuating, and
bis wrinkles curved into their most obsequious smile.
" Toby Purcell," he said, " was the best-natured,
the most open-hearted, the most generous^ the most
hospitable gentleman, within the circle of the sea.
VOL. I. s
258 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
Toby was never without his pleasant joke, and his
pleasant face. And his good tumbler of punch —
ay, his tumbler after tumbler, was always given
with a free hand — "
'* To do you justice, Tom, you never refused one,"
interrupted the eulogized individual.
And Toby Purcell's health was received in the
With the Chairman's sanction Toby Purcell
brought forward Ned Culkin's merits.
In his preface, Toby told the story of " the man
up in the hills " who when dying, prockumed tri-
umphantly that he had killed a ganger, taking
credit for this praiseworthy act, as sufficient atone-
ment for all the sins of his life.
" But 'twould be the pity to take Ned Culkin's
life. Ned could neither see nor smell a private
still; and as for his dipping-rule, 'twas never
known to find one half-glass in a puncheon of
whisky more than the honest dealer said was there."
To prove, however, that if Ned Culkin did not
increase the revenue in one way, he certainly did
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 259
in another. Toby stated — that during his lifetime
Ned Culkin had consumed three hundred puncheons
of whisky to his own share. The money value of
which was, not to mind shillings and pence, nine
thousand pounds, and that the contents of the three
hundred puncheons would fill a lake sufiicient to
float a ship of eight hundred tons burthen !
Lest there might be a question as to the accuracy
of these computations, Toby Purcell called on Paul
Carey the land-surveyor, who was present, to witness
in his favour. Paul Carey had assisted Toby in his
calculations, and now, consulting his field-book, he
confirmed the accuracy of the statement.
So Ned Culkin's health was given from the
Chair, the honoured man screaming ecstatically at
the recognition of his well-founded claims to dis-
The proceedings went on briskly. Paddy Dree-
lan, usually modest and unobtrusive, sprang up in
high excitement to propose the health of —
"The head man of the town, by Cork! — Mr.
260 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
Before the toast was oflFered for acceptance, Toby
Purcell related what he had heard as fact, that
Nick Mahaffy's yard measure was only thirty inches
long. This calumny Nick Mahaffy repelled indig-
nantly. Paddy Dreelan swore " by every cottoner
in Cork " that the fellow who thus spoke of Mr.
Mahaffy's yard measure was a backbiter and a
lying thief. Whereupon a warm disputation went
forward, all present taking sides on the question,
some seriously, some jocularly. On the Chair-
man's suggestion, Toby Purcell admitted that
he did not himself credit the report And the
health of '* the head man of the town, by Cork 1"
was received in high glee, and with due celebra-
Nick Mahafly brought forward the name of Paddy
Dreelan — "a harmless, inoffensive creature, that
came of a good owld stock of people — ^"
Here again Toby Purcell interfered. He re-
membered Paddy Dreelan " when he was a blind
beggarman on Taghmon Bridge, in the County
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 261
The joke was too manifest on this occasion to be
taken in dudgeon, and —
" The health of the blind beggarman from Tagh-
mon Bridge" was given from the Chair, and re-
ceived with laughter and great "hip, hip,
And so, one after another, they were all " right
good fellows," every one of them.
Meantime the widow-woman's muller had had
no rest. The black bottles were hoarse shouting
" dhuich r The waitress was obliged frequently to
wipe her brow with her apron, so rapid had been
her goings and comings.
It was evident the " Chair *' had resolved that
the departures from the " lone room '^ should be " on
the leaf of the hat " in real earnest. The Chairman
would dash on to insanity, and he would force all to
accompany him. So the drinking was furious.
"There is one present," he shouted forth,
"whose health has not yet been drunk. Come
here, Teague, my boy — paws up here." He tapped
the table, and — not a bound as usual — Teague
262 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
reluctantly obeyed. He put up one paw only ; —
in obedience to more peremptory orders be put up
the other. He looked reproachingly and affec-
tionately into his master's eyes. It was with a
scowl of dislike that he surveyed the rest of the
Mr. Chair eulo^zed bis dog, and promised on his
part that in a short time he too would become as
good a fellow as any other fellow. Teague's health
was received uproariously, and Teague's master
compelled his dog to swallow a full glass of punch,
pledging the health of the company. The poor
dog, thus excited, proceeded to take his share in
the vagaries going forward.
It was the remembrance of a like excess to which
he bad been on a former occasion forced to submit,
that had saddened Teague to-night when he accom-
panied Richard OMeara to the house of the widow-
FURTHER JOVIAL ErFECTS OF THE " CRUISKEEN
The inebriated Teague insisted on getting a seat at
the table ; he placed his paws thereon, looked round
him giddily, and, whenever laughter or high talk
went on, he barked, not in a surly way, but with a
loud, tipsy bark.
Following the pledging of healths, and under
orders from the Chair, came " a round of says and
sentiments." For the information of those to whom
this obsolete usage of good fellowship is unknown,
I may explain, that these "says and sentiments*'
were scarcely ever original. They were " says and
264 THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES.
sentiments ** in vogue on such occasions, and were
used as provocatiyes to further drinking.
"The land we live in," was one ; " May the best
of our days be to come," was another ; " Erin go
bragh !" another ; ** The liberator !"— ** Our
absent friends !"—" May the old drunkards bury
the young doctors !" — " May we never want a friend,
or a bottle to give him I" and so on, winding up
with, " Our noble selves !" coming with great Sdat
from the Chair.
"Hallo! Vice-chair r shouted Dick O'Meara,
"we'll have no flagging in our fun. Clear your
whistle, and sing us a song. Let us have ^Ha,
ha, ha!' Vice-chair."
"I'm all obedience, Mr. Chair," bowed and
. smiled Tom O'Loughlin.
" Hear ! — Ha — ^ha — ^ha 1' vociferated the Half-pay ;
and " Ha — ^ha — ^ha 1" rang round the " lone room."
The song called for was Tom O'Loughlin's
masterpiece. The "Ha, ha, ha!" was a laugh
with which each verse terminated, and when cho-
rused at an advanced stage of inebriety, it was
• THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 265
like demon-laughter. I give one verse as a speci-
** When my wife Chevaun goes to ride,
Two suggaun stirraps I'll provide ;
And shell trot on in pomp and pride,
And 1 will run by the garrav/rCs side.
Sing — ^Tee-i-iddle-dee,
Ha!— ha!— ha!
" A very good song, very well sung ;
Jolly companions every one r
— chaunted forth the Chairman, when Tom had given
his final ^'Ha, ha, ha!" He was chorused in
his chaunt, and then —
" The Vice-chair's health and song !" was toasted.
This chaunt, with ^^ the health and song " of the
singer, was the Chairman's province at the finish of
each strain, as the songs went round.
"I have a claim, Mr. Chair?" asked Tom
" An undoubted claim you have, my hearty."
«Ha! Then I call on Mr. Toby Purcell for a
266 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" A right good call, Vice-chair. Take a drink
and lilt away, Toby."
" I wouldn't stop the night's enjoyment for the
worid," answered Toby. " I suppose, Mr. Chair,
every one must contribute his share ?"
" Every one, Toby, — or drink a glass of salt and
" Well, no salt and water for me, and so, here
Toby's song was of very humble pretensions as a
lyric, but to each verse there was a chorus of three
lines, that, for the humour it contained, went far to
redeem the jejune merit of the rest. The air was
sad and slow, the chorus given by the singer in
melancholy cadence, and chorused by the company
in like mockery of seriousness. One verse will tell
for all the others : —
** The poor trees would be leafless, no flowers would blow,
No grass m the meadows, no potatoes would grow ;
And ourselves we would wither, and droop, and decay,
Unless showers were sent for to moisten the clay."
Chorus — ** Sure we'll all be laid in the grave below,
So we'll drink to our memories before we go/*
THE TOWN OP THE CASCADES. 267
The morality inculcated in the chorus greatly
impressed the "jolly companions."
Toby Purcell, as soon as his " health and song "
had been "tossed oflF," as Ned Culkin called it,
named Ned as the next vocalist
Ned Culkin declared he could not sing with a
heeltap of punch before him. He called on the
Chair, out of regard to his intended " contribution
of mirth," to order that all glasses should be
emptied. This was a reasonable request, and it
was ordered accordingly. Then fresh brimmers
appeared. And then Ned Culkin began, in a
mincing, cracked treble : —
" Listen !— listen !— listen !"
He paused, and turned his head from shoulder
to shoulder, after the manner of a cock-sparrow.
"Sups apiece all round, boys, before we go
farther;" and he took "a sup" himself, and all
" the boys " took " sups apiece " after him.
" Listen !— listen I— listen !"
Ned Culkin again sang. He paused as before, and
turned his head as before.
268 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
^^Supg apiece once more, boys," he repeated.
And the " sups apiece " went round a second time.
And so Ned Culkin went on, with alternate
"Listen!— listen! — ^listen!" and his "Sups apiece
all round, boys," until it was accorded that he had
*• A very good song, very well stmg/'
and that he was " a jolly companion " too.
There was one half humour, and one half pert
mischief actuating Ned Culkin when he named the
Half-pay as the singer to follow himself. Every
one knew that such a continuous unloosing of his
jaws by the Half-pay, as the emission of a song
would necessitate, was. with him a sheer impos-
sibility. And neighbour nudged neighbour glee-
ishly, anticipating "the Cumel's" perplexity.
The Half-pay disappointed them all. He sprang
up, he held forth his. glass in his left hand, while
pointing with his cudgel directly at that feature of
Tom O'Loughlin's face, which had, according to
Toby Purcell's statement, undergone such unheard-
of vicissitudes, —
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 269
" Ha ! — ^ha ! — ha !" — he snapped forth.
" Fol-de-too-rall-loo," chimed in the Vice-chair.
And the Half-pay resumed his seat as suddenly as
he had risen. He looked from face to face, as if
he would transfix his companions by his glance,
and, undetected by any one present, the silent
laughter circulated along his teeth, inside his re-
" Song !" and the Half-pay touched the shoulders
of the Chairman.
"A song ye must have, my jolly companions,"
assented the Chair.
Richard O'Meara's voice was round, mellow, and
musical, and, assuming a thorough Bacchanalian air,
he sang the fine old drinking-song of the " CrmS'
keen hawn^^ with its Irish chorus : —
" Gra ma chree, ma cruiskeen,
Slauntha gal ma voumeen,
Gra ma chree ma cruiskeen lawn :
Gra ma chree ma cruiskeen,
Slauntha gal ma^voumeen,
Gra ma chree ma cruiskeen,
Lawn, lawn, lawn —
Gra ma chree ma cruiskeen lawn I**
270 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
— setting the jolly companions half crazy, as their
voices mingled together.
"May that pipe of yovacs, Mr. Chair, never be
without a drop to oil it," said Tom O'Loughlin.
" Mr. Chair, if 'twouldn't be too much to ask, who
knows but you'd give us your own song of the
' Cruiskeen Lawn.'
" To be sure I will, Tom, with a heart and a
Dick O'Meara's ovm Song of the *^ CrudsJceen Lavm,*'
« Who's he that says *Alas !'
Whilst the pleasures of the glass
Upon his hrooding sorrows dawn ?
Oh, no ! he is not worth
The best gift of his birth —
Thy smile, my little Cruiskeen lawn, lawn, lawn,
j[7iy smile, my little Cruiskeen lawn !
Chorus — Gra ma chree, etc.
"The t'other day, 'tis said,
As Phoebus rose from bed.
And stooped his thirst to satisfy at dawn ;
Instead of honey'd dew.
His hurry led him to
A jorum of our Cruiskeen lawn, lawn, lawn,
A jorum of our Cniiskeen lawn !
Cliorus — Gi-a ma chree, etc.
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 271
" He thought it was the vase
From which, in ancient days,
Their godships all their nectar had drawn ;
And since, as Tm alive,
Ho swears he cannot thrive.
Without our Irish Cruiskeen lawn, lawn, lawn.
Without our Irish Cruiskeen lawn I
Chorus — Gra ma chree, etc.
" Huzza I for Irish whisky.
And all its joys so frisky I
Huzza I for all its frolic, roar, and fun I
Och hone I Och hone 1 I can't
Say half the things 1 meant
In praise of thee, my Cruiskeen lawn, lawn, lawn.
In praise of thee, my Cruiskeen lawn 1
Chorus — Gra ma chree,** etc.
As described to me by Toby Purcell, Mr. Chair's
own song produced the most enthusiastic demonstra-
tions of aflFection for " the Irish Cruiskeen lawn."
During the progress of each verse the " jolly com-
panions " smiled delightedly into each other's faces,
swaying their bodies, and waving their glasses. And
when the burthen of the
" Cruiskeen lawn, lawn, lawn,"
came on, each, as if by common consent, laid his
272 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
tumbler lovingly to his breast, and pressed it to
his heart fondly, and took a hearty pull preparatory
to the commencement of the second verse. And Mr.
Chairman, carried away by the half-insane enjoy-
ment over which he presided, was the most enthu-
siastic of all. He had in fact succeeded in banishing
all remembrance of the home-reproach which had
sent him forth with a darkened countenance, to the
intemperance of the " lone room."
As the toasts and ^'says and sentiments" had,
to use the language of the room, " gone the rounds,"
the song went "the rounds" also. Not one was
treated to the glass of salt and water as a penalty
for being unmusical.
Nick Mahafiy would stand up for it against any
one who should gainsay him, that he could sing
songs for " a week of Sundays," but that just now he
couldn't call them to his mind. One only he could
recollect, and thai he used to sing when he was in
his "Reading-made-easy," long ago.
" The best you could sing, Nick, my jovial fellow.
Out with it !" ordered the Chair.
THK TOWN OF THK CASCADES. 273
Nick Mahaffy's Song of Juvenility,
" There were two birds upon a stone,
SiDg diddle-diddle-dee-dum I
One of those birds he flew away,
Sing diddle-diddl&Hiee-doo I
If the t'other isn't gone,
You may catch it to-day.
Sing diddle-diddle-dee-d-u-um l"
" Very good song, very well sung.
Jolly companions every one I"
" Health and song, Mr. Nick Mahaffy 1"
"I call on you, neighbour Paddy Dreelan,'*
announced Mr. Nick MahaflFy. Paddy, obeying his
patron's summons, sang a downright boozing ditty,
scarcely to be expected from a person of his day-
time cringing quietude of deportment. But Paddy
had, as Toby Purcell had stated, seen somebody
carrying his tumbler to his mouth.
The Befrain of Paddy Dreelan's Boozing BiUy.
" No crying, no sighing —
A woful face don't let me see ;
ril shut my shop.
And go take my drop,
And 80 live easy, gay, and free 1**
VOL. I. T
274 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
Paul Carey, the land surveyor, who with Toby
Purcell had calculated the quantity and cost of
Ned Culkin's whisky consumptions, sang a well-
known laudation of punch.
Refrain of Paid Carey's Song.
" Punch cures the gout, the colic, and the phthisic,
Punch cures the gout, the colic, and the phthisic.
Then be it known to all men, —
Be it known to all men, —
Be it known to all men,
*Tis the very best of physic 1
Hurra! hurra! hurra!**
" Begone dull Care " was given by an unmarried
tippler, who shouted forth : —
" My wife shall dance.
And I will sing,
So merrily pass the day — ^*
all unheedful of his state.
And " The Land of PotAtoes O," was chanted.
" Where there's hospitality,
There youll ever see ;
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 275
But, free and aisy,
We will so amaze ye,
You'll think us crazy !
Dull we'll never be !
Foll-too-ra-loll-lee !" etc., etc.
The Chairman volunteered a favourite lyric,
generally sung on such occasions as the present.
He made free with the text, however. Whenever
the milder beverage, wine, was eulogized in the
original he substituted the more pungent incentive
of the " lone room." Thus : —
*' That time flees fast, the poet sings.
Oh ! let me then advise —
In pottecn punch to wet his wings,
And seize him as he flies," etc., etc.
A waggish fellow, when his " lilt " came round,
changed the character of the night's melodies, for
he crooned —
'* Inhere was a man, and he had a wife,
And when she died he killed her ;
And after that it came to pass
That they had three fine childer.
276 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
These childer all they went to slide
Upon a summer's day ; —
The ice it broke, and they all fell in, —
And the rest they ran away T
The singer of this classical romance (answering
somewhat to the French ^' Hy avaii unefemme, qui
B^appdaU Therese ; EUe avaii huU enfants, qui est
la moUiS de seize," etc.) was proclaimed to be a
" jolly companion " too.
As the night wore on, each fresh brewing of the
" liqv£wr de contradiction " hurried the drinkers to
the climax of excitement It was no longer necessary
that a draught of salt and water should be held up
in terrorem. " Contributions of mirth," as the songs
were named, were proffered, not only without solici-
tation, but they were forced on the company. —
^^ Croonawis" "Planxties," and love-songs were
given in the Irish language, to impart a twang of
the soil. And Tom O'Loughlin volunteered a stave
in low-Dutch, as he stated it to be, the unintel-
ligible gibberish of which set the "jolly companions"
screaming and shouting with ecstasy. Ultimately
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 277
there was a Babel of sin^ng, and talking, and jest-
ing, and laughter. The '^liqueur de coniradie*
iion " had set all the inmates of the " lone room "
And poor tipsy Teague was as crazy as the rest.
He would allow no one to remove him from his seat,
and with his paws resting on the table he looked
wildly from one insane face to the other, and yelped
and barked stentoriously. The Chairman proclaimed
himself as Pluto presiding over a revelry in Pan-
demonium ; that Teague was Cerberus, and that he
could see a cluster of heads sprouting from the
brute's shoulders, and barking in chorus.
Approaching to the third hour past midnight, the
noise of the " lone room " had abated to a compara-
tive lull. Of the twelve who had " set to " at the
commencement of the debauch, only five remained,
the others had escaped, one by one, as occasion
ofiered. The five incorrigible topers were, Richard
O'Meara, the Half-pay, Ned Culkin,Tom CLough-
lin, and one other less noted person.
" Hallo ! I say ! the festive board is half empty !"
278 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
cried the Chair, looking around in blinking surprise.
" Paltry cowards they are, and accursed may they
be. May Gallaher's malediction lie upon them for
leaving their liquor behind them. Up close to me
here, my loyal few. Leal subjects ye are, who have
remained faithful to your " king of the Gregory."
My valiant comrades, notwithstanding the base
desertion, our light shall not be — extinguished.
No. • Music hath charms to soothe the savage ear,'
and we will be musical. I proclaim — ;that we —
strike up — a concert. Ha, ha, ha I — ^a concert, by
the life of man ! — that Beethoven, or Mozart, or —
or Mendelssohn, — or any other master — would be
astonished at— to speak moderately! Yes, yes,
upon my soul,— yes — astonished at — ha, ha ! hallo !
hulloo ! Colonel, my worthy^ a bassoon you are to
be — a — ^ha, ha !— a prime instrument you will prove
yourself. The devil a shriller, more squeaking
clarionet was ever blown, than you will be, Ned
Culkin ! Viceroy Tom, I name you my trombone.
I see another leal subject down there; you're a
stout-built, full-bodied fellow, ha, ha 1 and your hide
THE TOWN OF 'mE CASOADEa 279
is well-strained to keep you within it. My big
drum you are to be. The leader of the orchestra
so appoints his band. His musical majesty himself
will be a fiddle — ha, ha, ha ! — hurra !**
It was evident that the " concert " decreed by the
Chair was no novel introduction to the " lone room."
The Half-pay stood erect at the first summons. He
inserted the ferule of his cudgel between his lips,
and fingered it so as to prove his readiness to take
part in the coming performance. Ned Culkin
bounced up at once, steadied himself, fixed his
hands as though he held a clarionet between them,
and protruded his lips to receive the suppositious
mouthpiece. Tom O'Loughlin pushed his left fist
before him at arm's length, and held his right fist
close to his right shoulder. The big drummer, he
within the tightened hide, shut both his fists hard,
and held them ready to pummel his own sides. And
Mr. Chair snatched up the snuff-dish, placed it
beneath his chin, and laid the snuffers across it as
" Ready ?" asked the Violin.
280 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
" Ready ! — ready ! — ^ready ! — ready T answered
the Bassoon, the Clarionet, the Trombone, and the
" Then the Fiddle opens the concert. Here goes,"
The maUre cForchestre, with exaggerated con-
tortions and grimaces, rattled the snuffers across the
snuff-dish, imitating with his voice, in the most ludi-
crous fashion, the instrument he represented. The
Half-pay, with knitted brows and apparent intensity,
worked at imaginary orifices in his cudgel, while a
hoarse sound, somewhat near ^^hhrum — hhrvm —
hhrvm /" was barked forth as bassoon. Ned Cul-
kin swayed his body violently upwards and down-
wards as he fingered his imaginary clarionet,
and his quavering scream was piercing as he so
jerked his person. Tom O'Loughlin worked his
ideal trombone to and fro with might and main,
accompanying his motions with most discordant
sounds: and the Bigdrum battered his own fat
sides most furiously, forcing out with every blow
such hollow noise as a well-beaten big-dnim should
THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES. 281
Fast and furious the ludicrous *' concert '* pro-
ceeded. The snuffers and snuff-dish rattled and
scraped energetically, while the* human Violin
squeaked a galloping jig ; the jaws of the Clarionet
were distended, and the Clarionet's body bent and
rose, and the Clarionet's fingers fingered the air,
and the Clarionet screamed shrilly ; and the Bassoon
barked " bhrum ! — bhrum ! — bhrum ! continuously ;
and the two arms of the Trombone worked back-
ward and forward as if the Trombone were possessed,
continuous groaning sounds coming from the Trom-
bone's mouth : and the hide-bound Big-drum battered
away fiercely, with a hoarse " bow-wow ! bow-wow !"
imitative of a big drum, following the blows.
Now and again the instruments paused to take
breath, and the instruments laughed, loud wild
laughter ; and the instruments wiped their teeming
foreheads between whiles; and the instruments
drank deep draughts of liquor, and then went on
again with renovated vigour.
Had these five last tipplers of the ** lone room "
become raging mad ? Yes, veritable maniacs were
282 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
they. Mad children you would report them to be,
80 earnest and energetic in their tantrums, and yet
so ludicrous their antics.
' And on, on went the concert, varied by drinking
and meaningless laughter. At length, the Big*
drum fell heavily to the floor ; Fiddle, Clarionet, and
Trombone shouted lustily ; and the " bhrum !—
bhrum !" of the Bassoon was barked out riotously.
After a time, the Clarionet sank down, exhausted
and disabled ; next, the Trombone staggered and
fell. Now Fiddle and Bassoon alone stood erect.
Between the two a fierce rivalry went on for a while,
and then the Bassoon tumbled helplessly. Of all
the five instruments the Fiddle alone remained up-
right So the Fiddle shouted ** Huzza I huzza!
huzza! The king of the Gregory was the con-
As the instruments fell successively, the dog
Teague, who had also been an excited participator
in the concert, barking all the while, worried each
with apparent relish for the pastime. When all four
had sunk down, he went from one to the other
THK TOWN OF THE CASCADEa 283
rolling tbeiQ over and shaking them, as if sharing
in his master's victory, and intent on despoiling the
Then Richard O'Meara sat down, breathing
laboriously, and shouting and laughing. He
seized a glass in his right hand and another in
** Your health, O'Meara, my boy !" he said, in a
congratulatory tone, and he drank from his right-
" Thank you, Dick, my staunch old fellow !" and
he drank from his left-hand glass.
"Your health again, O'Meara," and he drank
again from his right-hand glass.
"Thank you, Dick, my hearty 1" and he drank
again from his left-hand glass.
And so he went on, right against left, left against
right, to satisfy himself as to his superiority as a
drinker, and in laudation of himself as hero of the
Notwithstanding a strong repugnance towards
my subject, I have described in detail this night of
284 THE TOWN OF THE CASCADES.
nights in the " lone room," that the reader of this,
my narrative, may be able to draw a comparison
between the home of Richard O'Meara, and the
misnamed " indulgence " for which he had aban-
END OF VOL. I.
liONDOK : PBIMTBO BT WILTJAM CLOWES Aim 80X8, ST AMFOBD STBEVT
AMD CHARIXO CROSS.